Emotional Horses

If the street itself is a silent racetrack,
whose is
this bridle without any horseman at all? 
What to face up to, who turn your back on?
Don’t look behind, fly over the gate!

To punishment a dose of punishment:
we’re emotional horses.

Without a horseman, maybe a caravan?
In the cart we are pulling, who the devil rides?
My underfoot well shod in iron:
our plans and desires are full of nails. 

To punishment a dose of punishment:
we’re emotional horses.

At the end of the day, all night in a trance:
they’ll tie you—believing it paradise—
in the garden of delightfullest tortures;
although you’re a horse, you do donkey’s work.

To punishment a dose of punishment:
we’re emotional horses. 

Your prize awaits you now, in their hands
believing one handful will nourish you...

To punishment a dose of punishment:
we’re emotional horses. 

Melted sugar immediately, in your own flame,
flame and mouths both, melted at the same time. 

To punishment a dose of punishment:
we’re emotional horses.

Translated by Elizabeth Macklin

Manipulazio estrategiak (*Zart, 2020)