I'm but a donkey my mettle up
and you, my rider, raving to go
the tidal wasteland our first stop
with joys our foods we shout so
to mountaintop we climb step after heel and make it a run
past the sticky mud once my strife
my pace astir as you twist and turn
up and up you guide me to life
die if I must I’d bear you still
all mud below and all now conquered
broken bones my sweeter pill
the sun in gold radiantly splendoured
my wounds you bind with scarves anointed
My job done my rider in clouds can’t see him no more
feeling distraught I did as I ought roll down I must
gathering spines my hide in revolt flies off in gore
now naked my honour displaced dismayed I thrust
where’s my rider the hill now steeper the fall seeming fatal
back to wasteland to mud and slurry to stain and drudgery
come my lover come tremendous you know I’m mortal
down in the gutters shattered in ruins you leave me groggy
Ah! who’s this in the mud mired and messed up his eyes aglow
Yes, my friend, it’s me your rider to tops unseen there to take you
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Donkeys really never got there due until this poem - BRAVO