why are you inebriating the birds on your branches,
you crafty hagberry,
so they raise a ruckus on your branches at night?
But my friend the moon helps me, the bigmouth
draws on my shoulder a tattoo
of om and zen
and the lucky man gets some sleep
when you burst out shouting,
you obscene hagberry,
you make my guardian angel retch
Pig-cheese, my faithful friend, the trusty moon
stuffs shut the little birdsí mouth
itís night, all is silent
the lucky man has a dream.
In the morning while leaving, the bigmouth
takes along from my shoulder the tattoo
and vanishes until tomorrow.
Good night noble