He rises in the early morning hours
First the shirt, then the pants and boots
Next come the tools of the trade
The leather "just so" around the waist
His weapon, riding high on his side
Then the most important tool
The Piece of Tin.
He stops and tries to imagine what
today will bring
Will it be another day of boredom
or will the day be filled with
death?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem