Down there, on a broad meadow
two horses galloped.
Swiftly flowing over the grass,
giving it's fragrance after every step.
On the broad meadow,
two horses galloped:
one is white like a crown's crystal,
and the other, pitch black like
a drop of ink.
Their running is like a dance.
They try to overcome one another,
with their hooves colliding
as the wind caresses
their long manes, like a mother
caresses her young child.
But none of them can overcome the other.
Just like the Sun and the Moon
chase one another on the firmanent,
so they too chase one another,
never conquering the other.
©stoic_poet
S