Far off I see my docile animals.
by Eugénio de Andrade
They are tall and their manes are burning.
They run, searching for a spring,
and sniff the purple among broken rushes.
Slowly they drink the very shade.
Now and then they lift their heads.
They gaze in profile, happy almost
at the lightness of the air.
They place their muzzles close beside your loins,
where the body's grass is most confused,
and like a creature basking in the sun,
slowly they breathe, soothed and calm.
Translation: 2003, Alexis Levitin