───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── renamed: felstiner.txt to rothenberg.txt ───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── @ rothenberg.txt:4 @ Black milk of daybreak we drink it at evening we drink it at midday and morning we drink it at night we drink and we drink we shovel a grave in the air where you won't lie too cramped A man lives in the house he plays with his vipers he writes he writes when it grows dark to Deutschland your golden hair Margareta he writes it and steps out of doors and the stars are all sparkling he whistles his hounds to stay close he whistles his Jews into rows has them shovel a grave in the ground Black milk of morning we drink you at dusktime we drink you at noontime and dawntime we drink you at night we drink and drink we scoop out a grave in the sky where it's roomy to lie There's a man in this house who cultivates snakes and who writes who writes when it's nightfall nach Deutschland your golden hair Margareta he writes it and walks from the house and the stars all start flashing he whistles his dogs to draw near whistles his Jews to appear starts us scooping a grave out of sand he commands us play up for the dance Black milk of daybreak we drink you at night we drink you at morning and midday we drink you at evening we drink and we drink A man lives in the house he plays with his vipers he writes he writes when it grows dark to Deutschland your golden hair Margareta Your ashen hair Shulamith we shovel a grave in the air where you won't lie too cramped Black milk of morning we drink you at night we drink you at dawntime and noontime we drink you at dusktime we drink and drink There's a man in this house who cultivates snakes and who writes who writes when it's nightfall nach Deutschland your golden hair Margareta your ashen hair Shulamite we we scoop out a grave in the sky where it's roomy to lie He shouts dig this earth deeper you lot there you others sing up and play he grabs for the rod in his belt he swings it his eyes are so blue stick your spades deeper you lot there you others play on for the dancing He calls jab it deep in the soil you men you other men sing and play he tugs at the sword in his belt he swings it his eyes are blue jab your spades deeper you men you other men play up again for the dance Black milk of daybreak we drink you at night we drink you at midday and morning we drink you at evening we drink and we drink a man lives in the house your goldenes Haar Margareta your aschenes Haar Shulamith he plays with his vipers Black milk of morning we drink you at night we drink you at noontime and dawntime we drink you at dusktime we drink and drink there's a man in this house your golden hair Margareta your ashen hair Shulamite he cultivates snakes He shouts play death more sweetly this Death is a master from Deutschland he shouts scrape your strings darker you'll rise up as smoke to the sky you'll then have a grave in the clouds where you won't lie too cramped He calls play that death thing more sweetly Death is a gang-boss aus Deutschland he calls scrape that fiddle more darkly then hover like smoke in the air then scoop out a grave in the clouds where it's roomy to lie Black milk of daybreak we drink you at night we drink you at midday Death is a master aus Deutschland we drink you at evening and morning we drink and we drink this Death is ein Meister aus Deutschland his eye it is blue he shoots you with shot made of lead shoots you level and true a man lives in the house your goldenes Haar Margarete he looses his hounds on us grants us a grave in the air he plays with his vipers and daydreams der Tod ist ein Meister aus Deutschland Black milk of morning we drink you at night we drink you at noontime Death is a gang-boss aus Deutschland we drink you at dusktime and dawntime we drink and drink Death is a gang-boss aus Deutschland his eye is blue he hits you with leaden bullets his aim is true there's a man in this house your golden hair Margareta he sets his dogs on our trail he gives us a grave in the sky he cultivates snakes and he dreams Death is a gang-boss aus Deutschland dein goldenes Haar Margarete dein aschenes Haar Shulamith your golden hair Margareta your ashen hair Shulamite