Page 78 - Sorrow of the Earth: Buffalo Bill, Sitting Bull and the Tragedy of Show Business
P. 78
May the fellow from Dakota forgive us, and, if he can, return from his past
narrative tense with his beggar’s pouch of worries, where shards of History
lock together like jaws. Let’s take one last look.
Let us love his sorrow; we share his incomprehension, his children are our
own, his funny hat might suit us! Let’s take a good look at him. It’s a sleepless
night. Whisper to me what I must write. But please, don’t show me your face
any more, don’t look at me. The earth sorrows, the body is alone. I can’t see
anything now. And there you are, a destitute king because you picked the
wrong card.
