THE WILD HORSES OF DREAMS
Like a herder of wild horses
In a meadow,
Under the shade of an oak,
I have no saddle,
No reins,
No nails or horseshoes,
But I keep the saddlebags as a pillow
With a few seeds like kernels of corn.
I wished to tame man,
To speak and make him a friend.
He lifted his head harshly,
Snorted,
Didn’t turn my way,
But dashed off,
Galloping to the other side.
Under the shade of the oak, I remained,
Asleep,
With the empty saddlebags under my head.
With the clatter of wild horses,
I fly into the clouds,
Clinging to their manes,
Floating amidst the sky…