The hooves were striking a rough song:
Grib
Grab
Grob
Groob;
Coated in winds
The street slid on...
In ice-capped boots
And so forlorn;
Bang! -
Abruptly a horse fell down on a croup
And suddenly
Idle and uncalled for fans
Gathered, giggling, in a nasty group:
«A horse fell down! Look, at its frown! “
Kuznetsky laughed,
Being pathetic, seeming brute;
And only me was keeping silent;
I gently closed up to the animal
“Baby, forgive, them, so darn violent,
But on the inside they’re not terrible!”
The horse’s street was upside down
Majestically on-its-own;
The horse’s fur hid sweat and I could drown
In horse’s tears streaming on and on...
And I was suddenly and overwhelmingly
Filled up with magic, lofty pain:
“Baby, calm down,
Baby, listen! What’s these tears’ worth?
You think that you’re worse than they!
We are all horses on this Earth!
And our souls like horses’s glisten
With all the tragic spell and mirth;
Perhaps, a horse was self-sufficient
And didn’t need a nurse like me;
It just stood up and went on, neighing
With genuine and loud glee;
And foal-like grin was on its muzzle,
And energetic was its tail
It stood so ardent in its stable,
Ready to work without fail.
Перевод стихотворения В.В. Маковского «Хорошее отношение к лошадям» (1918)