GRANDMOTHER
A singing, child, a singing
about the great stallion,
who would not drink the water,
the water in its blackness,
in among the branches.
Where it finds the bridge,
it hands there, singing.
Who knows what water is,
my child,
its tail waving,
through the dark green chambers?

MOTHER
Sleep, my flower,
the stallion is not drinking.

GRANDMOTHER
Sleep, my rose,
the stallion is crying.
His legs are wounded,
his mane is frozen,
in his eyes,
there is a blade of silver.
They went to the river.
Ay, how they went!
Blood running,
quicker than water.

MOTHER
Sleep, my flower,
the stallion is not drinking.

GRANDMOTHER
Sleep, my rose,
the stallion is crying.

MOTHER
It would not touch
the wet shore,
his burning muzzle,
silvered with flies.
He would only neigh,
to the harsh mountains,
a weight of river, dead,
against his throat.
Ay, proud stallion
that would not drink the water!
Ay, pain of snowfall,
stallion of daybreak!

GRANDMOTHER
Do not come here! Wait,
close the window,
with branches of dream,
and dreams of branches.

MOTHER
My child is sleeping.

GRANDMOTHER
My child is silent.

MOTHER
Stallion, my child
has a soft pillow.

GRANDMOTHER
Steel for his cradle.

MOTHER
Lace for his covers.

GRANDMOTHER
A singing, child, a singing.

MOTHER
Ay, pround stallion
that would not drink the water!

GRANDMOTHER
Don't come here! Don't enter!
Go up to the mountain
through a sombre valley,
to where the wild mare is.

MOTHER* *gazing
My child is sleeping.

GRANDMOTHER
My child is resting.

MOTHER (softly)
Sleep, my flower,
the stallion is not drinking.

GRANDMOTHER (rising, and very softly)
Sleep, my rose,
the stallion is crying.