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cowboy poetry

das endlose, dumme merriment der Sterne
ich muß sagen gute Nacht
lassen Sie mich traurig sein
diese Herzen wurden von den menschlichen Freuden und Obacht gesponnen
desolate und einsam
ich bin alt und blind
innerhalb meiner Hand halte ich
ich habe sie in der Nacht gehört
zweifellos erinnere mich ich noch
gegen die grüne Flamme des Weißdorn-Baums
niedrig! ' tis ein Galanacht
schauen Sie heraus nach den Sternen, meine Liebe
und breakethbrot nicht mehr


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