The Stallion stood at the head of the river
Its majestic body etched in the morning rays of sunlight
His dark mane swaying in the morning breeze
He stood there...Majestic in his being
His ears flicked in the wind as if he heard a call
A voice long lost....
He reared on his hind leg...as if trying to re-call
The soft sweet call of his name....as it echoed in his ear
His pure pres-ten black coat simmering in the light of day
As he landed on his hoofs...grunting to the new day
Then as if in a mirage...he galloped off into the distance
And disappeared from view
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem