they come and frolic
these horses of the sea
they are stiff and melancholic
as are you and me;
young, once agile as slime, they galloped
their merriment to some
boulders at the shore;
but now they play no more:
just fester like our slick hair
in the west wind,
and float like our days gone by,
as we hold back the urge to cry,
seeing the stiff in the road
beat his land-horse to death.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem