When day was Broad and spirits out
The horse would sleep under the umbrageous trees...

After most of the day, away in my drudge
I fair my way home to spend it alone...

The atmosphere spreads under stars in their choir
With piebald black clouds to mull and admire...

The women in a leopard skirt
with bruised legs and tarantula eyes...

I wake miserable and half-hearted
and apathetic...