“Our freedom is a tyrant
yet we, dependent on the wilderness,
(in blood and in spirit)
keep subduing to it –
We ride ecstatically
without a saddle, without harness, without rest
we are never still
we are never sleepy –
We storm across the ridge
under the arching sky
like a passionate lass
on top of a brawny man –
Our days and nights ignore
the counting of the clock
space is what charms us
we have the eyes of a fish
overlooking two lakes
one of them white, the other – black
we are not given the choice
to settle down.
We are a herd of untamed stallions
mares, fillies
always in two minds, uncertain
home-thirsty, seeking refuge
in a tame wasteland
peaceful sweetness in a dark shriek.
Grown weary of freedom
– self-seeking, wildly galloping crests –
enslaved by nature, we flee
terrified of our own shadow
we shriek, bleat, tramp, run wild
always on the run, yet always here
we must never be tamed
we breed in fear
we foal in fear
even love means facing fear
tremor and dread in the hall
of natural death.
Watch us from afar,
Tamer, show us
freedom’s mild face
give us some love
for we know not
where more to go
with this excess
of freedom!”