The winds had died, an omen, this full moon
he clutched the boy and pleaded with his mount,
but in the end, so motherloving soon
they'd lost against the Devil's final count.
Der Wind nun schwaecher doch ein voller Mond,
Orakel, laufe schneller liebes Ross
er hielt das Kind mit Zaertlichkeit, betont
bis dass der Teufel seine Todespfeile schoss.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great write Herbert...thank you...Fi....10++