A tall dark stranger rode into town
Left his horse at the livery stable
Booked a room for the night at the drovers inn
Ate a meal at a dim corner table
Paid for a bath in coin of gold
Asked the maid to wash down his back
Paid her in gold that glints in the dark
From a purse that he took from his pack
He slept in a bed with clean cotton sheets
The best he had done for a while
Under his pillow his hand on his gun
For years now that had been his style
It wouldnt take long for news to get round
Of the stranger who had come into town
When all the young bucks would try out their luck
He would shoot them still wearing his frown
It always was fair in a manner of speaking
He let them make the first move
In the blink of an eye his bullets would fly
He had nothing much left he could prove
The stranger had come with a hand and a gun
So fast he could never be beat
All that had tried very soon realised
He was Death as they lay at his feet
As evening approached he went to the stable
Where he saddled and mounted his horse
As the dusk fell around he rode out of town
Never once with a pang of remorse
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem