On the Picture of the Singing Horseman

The singing horseman
he rides his amber mare at daytime

With his hands on his heart
He shouts freedom

A twirling wind is playing
the white wisps of cloud
the green grass
the blues in the air
the soft strings of his golden hair

The rhythm of the horse’s hooves
and the voice of the horseman
by the blue warm woods we hear.

(Painting: The Singing Horseman by Jack B. Yeats)

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