I’m unique among all racing horses,
I’m an ambler - people call me so;
I am not like most of the coursers -
No horse can go as I go.

But my ribs are mercilessly spurred
‘Cause my jockey never leaves his seat...
I would rather pasture in a herd
Carrying no saddle and no bit.

From a sheath the sword should be extracted,
Otherwise it’s safer than a pin -
I am saddled, hobbled and distracted,
And my bridle is a biting sting.

And my back again is frayed and hurt,
And I shiver drinking in the heat...
I would rather pasture in a herd
Carrying no saddle and no bit.

At the starting gate I’m now rocking,
Derby! I’m the favorite today!
Stakes are put on me but it’s my jockey
Wheezing out his zeal to bear away!

When again he spurred me up I heard
Scoffers laugh - today they’re full of wit...
I would rather pasture in a herd
Carrying no saddle and no bit.

Lining up, the steeds are filled with fluster -
Prancing, prancing taking no pause.
Each one hates the other and his master,
Foam dripping down from their jaws.

By the fans my jockey is preferred -
He is always as a fiddle fit...
I would rather pasture in a herd
Carrying no saddle and no bit.

But for him I won’t win a fortune,
At the finish I will be the last!
I remember spurs-and-stirrups torture -
Stumbling I will shuffle in the dust!

Off we go! He flies for the award,
He is full of undisguised conceit...
I would rather pasture in a herd
Carrying no saddle and no bit.

But what’s this? I pander to my foe?
I rush forward in my ambling pace.
Why is that? I really don’t know,
I cannot help winning this damned race!

Then to me it suddenly occurred
What to do - to shake him off my back!
And to run, as if I’m in a herd,
Saddled, bridled but without this jack!

And the fans could see my jockey shamble
Towards the finish. Boy, was he depressed!
For the first time I was not the ambler -
I just tried to win like all the rest!