Federico Garca Lorca — Song of the Horseman II

In the black moon Home to the horseback bandits Spurs ring a song: "Woah black pony! Whither with your dead rider are you going?" These are the strong Spurs of a stirless bandit Whose reins are down: "Woah cold pony What a fragrance in the dagger's flower" In the black moon The side of Sierra Morena Bled from a wound. "Woah black pony! Whither with your dead rider are you going?" The night spurs Its black flanks, spangling Itself with stars: "Woah cold pony! What a fragrance in the dagger's flower" In the black moon A cry! And then the long Deep bonfire horn. "Woah black pony! Whither with your dead rider are you going?"