Passer-by

There once was a man in a town among towns. Was a lot his property and estates, his titles and reputation, he had inns and taverns and Turkish baths, he had children and grandchildren. He was also healthy and even happy.
    There was another man far among faraways. Didn't have this or that, diamonds or other. But he was healthy and happy too.
    The man who had everything got curious about the man who had nothing. People around kept talking about him. How could a man with nothing be happy? Our man was intrigued. Curiosity... It's not easy to hush once it takes over, makes a man hit the roads. As such, our man left his comfortable and warm house, to visit this man who had nothing.
    When he arrived, he found the man he was looking for sitting in a naked room with a few worn out clothes and furniture. After an exchange of greetings he asked timidly: “May I ask your permission to ask you a question?”
    Well, this was a question in itself but our man didn't seem to be aware. The estimable reverence didn't seem to mind, he nodded solemnly.
    Upon which, our man asked “Where are your possessions?”
    It's not good etiquette to answer a question with a question but the reverence reflected a mirror and asked:
    “Where are yours?”
    Surprised was our “man with so much”... Wasn't it obvious? Still, he answered the question not to compromise his manners.
    “I'm a passer-by, I've come and I'll be going.”
    The one with nothing answered as if he was waiting for this reply:
    “I am a passer-by too in this world, I've come and I'm going.”