Wild horses are like wind or ocean waves that never freeze,
and with the wind their hearts merge, their snorting is a light breeze…
Freedom is their mother born from thousands of rivers and rain,
bravery is their father ever free from fear and pain…
Their hoof-beat is the rhythm of their life they bestow upon the ground,
on their timid back they carry love, in their eyes gentleness can be found…
Rain and the sun transform them into wildly galloping hues -
their tails and manes are rainbow brushes and paint the world with their Muse…
Wind fixes drops of rain upon the strands of their manes and tails,
so they become bead curtains attached to a spring, fresh-aired veil…
And they clink as they run, snort as they splash every puddle and stream.
They are free and have no fear, exist to be just a distant dream…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem