The moonlight wavered as the clouds drift by
Sprinkled our heads with sheer white snow.
My neigh faltered as I uttered a cry
Seeing things dim, nothing aglow.
My master seemed to have felt my pretense
But he patted my neck instead.
'Are we now stopping by a shaft? ' I sensed
'Why don't we simply move ahead? '
Our camaraderie seemed to jolt him
Awakened him from his daydream.
He reacted urgently to my whim
Altering previously-planned schemes.
We hurdled past twigs and branches
My hooves left irregular trails.
We hurried as time fixed the lost chance
To make it up to my master's tale.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem