The Horses Poem by Jan Oskar Hansen
The Horses
The horses
Three horses graze on my land, one is a foal.
In the twilight and with gentle rain falling
they remind me of work horses of by gone
days when I steered the plough that made
furrows in dark, clean soil.
When I stroke their flanks the good aroma
of warm horse arises; dreams are endless.
In daylight they pretend to be boulders, but
even then they make the land serene.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 2:16:29 AM # 1.0.0.1119
