who taught the creatures their ear? –
My memory of one spring day, its
evening, in Russia –, a horse …
evening, in Russia –, a horse …
Across from the village a white horse came,
a rope tied to one fore-hoof,
to be alone in the meadows for the night.
How it shook the locks of its mane
in time with its high spirits! –
with that rough, hobbled gallop.
How the springs of its noble blood leapt!
that felt the distances, and on,
that sang and heard –, your epic song
was sealed in it.
That image: I dedicate it.
