Running with wild horses
Spanish princes on the strand
under the copper light of a borelian moon
casting gemstones to the sand
she breaks from the foam to run among them
silvery shining with paints and bays
her parhelion arc a pointed lance
long familiar among the fay
and in the light of some moon ancient
moondog sisters perhaps, she and I
tonight by the sea we'll run til morning
chasing Vangogh stars back from the sky
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem