Mountains!
I whip my swift horse, glued to my saddle.
I turn my head startled,
The sky is three foot above me!
Mountains!
Like great wave surging in a crashing sea,
Like a thousand stallions,
In full gallop in the heat of battle.
Mountains!
Piercing the blue of heaven, your barbs unblunted!
The skies would fall,
But for your strength supporting. |
