A coat of silk, cheap jewels he loves to flaunt,
Some tawdry lace that serves him for a frill:
He grasps a pistol butt, and seems to taunt
Striding his bronco with its braided tail,
Crowned by a hat that tapers to a cone—
One feels no bribe nor violence could prevail
To make him change his saddle for a throne.
Proud of his seat, he cracks his rawhide lash.
The brute obeys, a spark flies from his hoof.
He plunges; and with pistol at his sash
His master strides him, haughty and aloof.
These seem no man and horse in mortal strife,
But some Olympic figure come to life.
José Santos Chocano ["El Cantor de América"] (1875 – 1934) Peru
Translated by John Pierrepont Rice
Source: Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. Volume XI. No. 5. February, 1918. Harriet Monroe ed. Chicago: 1912–22
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