Once, learning to ride,
I clung to my terror.
Suddenly I felt as if
The horse was grafted to my thighs.
Centaur-pulsed, I saw
Rhythm riding.
Swimmers and runners
Dissolve their time and seek
A primal scansion in their veins.
If we unwind, may be
We can deceive the sun
And keep our own seasons,
Thus keeping time
By our own reasons.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I liked this poem a great deal..we cling to terror a lot in our lives...interesting take..thanks for sharing