Riding into the sunset like a ghost rider, silent and
fast, no one seeing it appearing or disappearing ever.
Yet, songs are written about ghost riders, an ancient
mystery that fascinates people everywhere, phantoms
of repute.
Never causing trouble, or getting in the way, staying
quietly by himself without ever bothering anyone, an
existence that's borne of imagination and fantasy,
seeming to be a reality to many.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem