I have two animals,
A red one and a blue one.
When the blue one drinks,
the red one goes rushing about -
and vice versa.
I never can catch them, torn as I am
between the resting one and the rushing one.
I float a thought for bait,
far, far out over the plain.
They take no notice,
their snouts sniffing the infinite.
I will lay myself down in the long grass,
close to a well, and sink into sleep.
The moon will cover me.
They will come in the morning
with the first horizontal light,
tired, sweaty, foam on their muzzles.
Then we will go together to drink water.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem