Old woman from the brown land
Thinks the moon is already full
Candle that the wave condemns
Torn to pieces in the sand
Leave broken
Going up the road
Still night
Breaking comes
The woman
Take the armful
Of fresh grass
Supreme good
Sing the turtledove
In a ramada
On the road
The woman goes
My lord
On this walk
I don't even remember
The dawn
There are those who live
br/>Without noticing anything
Some people die
Without such knowledge
Burned old woman
Burned old woman
Sell the fruit
If you want to eat
In the evening
The woman reaches
Whoever buys her
From her food
To give
The meek little goat
Fresh grass
The color of the sea
On the sidewalk
A black stain
It covered everything
And there it stayed
Come on, old woman
In the black skirt
Flower that in the wind
Tumbled to the ground
In winter
You will have plenty
Of the grass outside
Supreme good
Sing it
Your bitterness
Morning girl
.. never coming again

KORREKTUREN ÃœBERMITTELN