In August,1913, Isham stood at auction
And Bill’s friends conspired to buy the horse,
To return him to his only rightful owner.
They forgot to tell the Indian Carlo Miles,
Who waded in, war-like, bidding far beyond his means,
Trying to bring the horse home for Bill,
Threatening to steal him if he couldn’t buy him.
He bid until his money gave out
Then he bid until his sweat almost choked him,
Driving the price up to one hundred fifty dollars;
Weeping in bitterness when he lost,
And in astonished joy when he learned the truth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem