(from Purschwitz)
Translated by H. Melvin Symmank

A pigeon is a beautiful little creature
Pigeons please me
I love pigeons tenderly,
I love pigeons tenderly,
Truly I assure you.

When it comes toward morning
The pigeon joy begins
They begin to coo,
They begin to coo
That I can sleep no more.

When it comes toward noon
The pigeons fly out to the field
They search for seeds for themselves,
They search for seeds for themselves,
Nourishing themselves as they please.

When it comes toward evening
Then they fly home again
And sometimes they bring me,
And sometimes they bring me,
Others with them into the house.



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