Wild Horses Race

a pacifist poem

I’m asking you, man.

When you have tamed the knight

to skip the chess table’s squares,

were you thinking

only about snowless wars ?

 

Between white and black,

striking each other,

including their bishops,

you have decided to banish

all gray shades.

 

Your horse knelt in his harness 

with his sousing curb bit

in that fierce battle

where chivalry clatters and bugles

were singing the last confession for many.

 

But at a far distance, on unknown pathways,

wild horses were racing like storms,

warming with their hearts

the grasses, the clear blue sky

and the vultures’ flight.