… I hear a distant neigh,
The darkness brightens, grows
In crimson fog,
As if some cloud
Pierced by the sun
Dissolves into blue air.
On mighty waving wings,
Its mane as maidens' hair
Full of the shining sparkling gold,
My horse, my magic mare,
Glides through the sky to me.
Her eyes are full of frenzy and of love
To which she finds response
Within my heart.
I call my horse Aurora.
The goddess of the down
Once had been named like this.
Across the sky we fly
To meet to all plethora -
The morning sun -
The crown of new day.