The stud of my white horses
White, foamy, whirling
Brilliant, astounding
When you fly towards the sky
With your waving mane
Opening to the soul a swing
Where are you? What happened?
Are you somehow hidden?
I looked for you everywhere
I called you
No! I don’t think you left
You can’t leave me so alone
With my clumsy thoughts
What shall I do with them?
What will they do of me?
Maybe a phantom spirit
Walking through foreign worlds
I feel is not in order
What is happening to me now, or to you
But what do I hear? Who is coming?
Oh, there are my thoughts
They have undergone into white horses
Even though born out of clouds
Welcome!
I cannot live without you
Without you the land is bare
The soul falls from the cliff
Nothing in my world climbs anymore
Is this a slow lowering?
There’s a question in an undertone
No, it is not a slow lowering
But not a fall
It is a pain inside me
A remission, a return
A hope, a delusion
And perhaps a moment
An eagle that is rising
Just to fall again
From the highest
Cliff
And once again
He dashes
The stud of my white horses
White, foamy, whirling
Brilliant, astounding
Free liberty in flying!
Where are you?
What happened?
The pastures of my soul have dried
The wells have dried too
The flowers of the body have withered
And you left me too?
The stud of my white horses
White, foamy, remote
Do you hear me? Are you coming?
I can’t live without you
I can’t die without you
At the chart of the immortal empress, Death
When she will come
Your manes
I want them waving in your flying
The stud of my white, white immortal horses.
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