Wild Horses Poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

Wild Horses

In my youth the still used horses
especially for the wealthy.
The leading funeral bureaux had two
lovely black horses, that was too
full of life for the job.
They got the smell of a mare in season
and took off the driver often drunk
lost control and through narrow cobblestone streets
they galloped the wagon scrapped walls broke
shop windows and the casket flew off and finally
the spectacle came to a halt at a blind-road.
They put the dead one back in his casket, got hold
of a sober driver, and somewhat damaged got
to the cemetery, but the dignity was gone it was
more like a comedy show, and we the town`s poor,
had something to laugh about for weeks.