In the darkness without any clear moon
I suddenly hear the gallop, the thunder
of horse hooves and there far below
I see a black horseman passing by,
With some red sparks coming from the quarts rocks
as if it comes straight from revelation
or an ancient war, I am astounded,
struggle with some fear to go on my way,
maybe it is a wanderer from death
but with him I have nothing in common,
I see the rider hang over to me
and my need suddenly becomes great
but when the moon appears unexpected
there is nothing at the troubled old brook.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem