The Stallion
Borrowing the visage of an old sullen
stallion
Waiting for the coup de grace,
I shall throw myself back in my chair
Browsing aimlessly the old newspapers.
Filled with boredom.
I wait to hear the call
To pay the final bill
For all what God gave me
And deprived me of.
Soon the gates will open.
I shall not ask the guards;
My destiny never makes me worry.
I want nothing but to free this heart
From the long prison.
I want to sleep without fear.
Oh! This journey has worn me out!
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