Saddle

Written at the commemorative museumfor the Kazakh poet Tangjareh

Whose saddle is thisWhy does its silence leavea grassland-loving PeopledejectedIt’s so sereneSoundless waitinghas become eternalas if the hoofbeatshave coagulated into stoneThis is a testimony of loveto its loyal master whogalloped across the happiest timesof men and women in the worldIt is still breathing, because it believesone day the horsemanwill return in gloryIt’s heavy as a shepherd’s sighSometimes to receive the respect and equality of othersa freedom-loving spirit’sonly choice is to die