White Horses

With surprise I did witness the pain that derived from the winter’s parade

On that day, when the men and the clowns and the snobbish young women came down.

At the start of the noise of the event, under guard of the market’s arcade,

We thought not about seeing what unwillingly happened to stain all our town.

To our sight came a horse with a fur all black dyed. From the mane to the face,

From its looks to its strength, it all mirrored, of course, the whole darkness in heart.

So distinct from the line of the colourful march and the whiteness of place,

It was tired, frozen hooves, but the whipping was fresh... so the play was to start.

Not at all used to that, lost composure and poise, and with ravening neigh

Pulled away from the grip of the groom, whose own mind was as fast as his hand.

By the street it did go, until reaching its end, and the wharf, so to say,

Was to feel all the weight of the mount while commotion took part in our land:

Such a shock was to see how the beast thought it neat and it edged to the pier.

It could hardly believe in the frost of the lake, so it jumped. Disappeared.

Max Jiménez