The gallop

Shake, good horse, your fleeing mane,

That in the air around us filled with voices.

Let me hear creak and snap under your noisy feet

The gravel of streams and the debris of woods.

With the air at your side mixes your hot breath,

To the spark of your feet, your foam, and your blood,

Run, as the eagle flies, brushing against the plain

Whisking the grass in your sonorous and quivering flight.

Let us go! Young men, swimming, swimming,

Cries the old chief of the tribe to his knights,

And the sons of the desert halt the pillaging,

And the horses are crazy from the great air they have breathed.

Swim also in space, o my fast horse,

Shower me with pure air, bathe me in the wind,

The stirrup hits your belly, and I have let slip the bridle.

My body hardly touches yours, it flies, following you.

Break everything, the bush, the fence, or the branch.

Mountain streams, ditches, embankments, cleared in a single bound.

Run, run, I dream and on you, my eyes closed, I hold myself,

Carry me, carry me into the great unknown!