Now an era has been closed
Lost forever, wiped out and gone
The grand, green turf ripped up and disposed
Just fragile memories to lean upon;
A course, a way to the finish
A true test of man and beast,
Left to the modern world to diminish
Where history counts for the least;
Grey God, Tug Of War, Attivo, Irish lake
Glimpsed faintly through time's mists,
New Brig, Border Minstrel, Even Say, Outbreak
The brave are now only lists;
Spare a moment for these heroes equine
Plant celebratory kiss and give joyous hug,
Think of their courage at the finishing line
And what was lost when the turf was dug.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem