Listening to the twanging of yesterday's guitar playing upon
the stage, giving all a taste of the good old western frontier.
Steering us in directions of dusty trails where covered wagons
were always headed out west, looking for freedom and liberty
away from the small towns and cities.
There were too many rules and laws were stifling everyone back
then, but the wide open desert fulfilled life, expressing openly
without fear, having a twenty-two to keep away the bad guys.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem