You're Navajo
I'm part Sioux;
there's miles and miles between us, but
it'll do -
On a wild-whim
we rode off the reservation;
you forgot your glasses
I forgot my medication -
You're a full bodied-n-blooded red girl
the trucks an old, blue Ford,
I'm a busted half-breed, and
we're both bored -
Maybe we ran out of time, or
just out of luck,
maybe we're going crazy
or just out of touch -
But hey, you're a sweet Indian woman
and I'm you're savage lovin' man,
we're runnin' this way now, just because
we know that we can -
So down the warpath
we'll let ourselves go;
might end at Custer's Last Stand
or a Wild-West extravaganza show -
Either way is a.o.k.
even if it gives cause to die,
because, for the first time in years
we both finally feel, fully alive -
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The true wild-west shall never be tamed, for it lives eternally in the hearts of those brave enough to notice...