The bull got horns to fight with.
The horse has no horns for that.
The horse learnt running to escape by.
Skill grows in adopted ways,
As demanded by sex and safety.
It is a myth the God fevours
For each growth and each loss.
Gravels turn to pebbles by force
28.05.2001, Pmdi
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem