He rides among the highways
where dawn has strewn her veils
his mane blends into sunsets
his hooves leave clouds as trails
The spirit of this stallion
cannot be bridled, tamed
nor corralled by the mighty
the rich or lords of fame
But when the moon is sleeping
and can't be seen one night
there comes a gentle neighing
to him who lost the fight
Soon that poor lad is riding
the steed all poets claim
and it no longer matters
that he has failed life's game
When riding on that stallion
embraced by dawn's fair veils
and touched by stars at twilight
bliss paves a newfound trail.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem