Place du Carrousel

Place du Carrousel
towards the end of a beautiful summer day
the blood of a horse
injured and unharnessed
onto the pavement
And the horse was there
on three feet
And the other wounded foot
wounded and torn
Right next to it
there was also the coachman
and the carriage that was also motionless
useless as a broken clock
And the horse was silent
the horse didn’t complain
the horse didn’t whinny
it was there
it waited
and it was so noble so sad so simple
and so reasonable
that it wasn’t possible to hold back tears

lost gardens
forgotten fountains
sunlit meadows
oh suffering
splendor and mystery of adversity
blood and sparks
beaten-up beauty

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