On the stones and sands and dewey grasses
I am racing at my curious pace,
For my gait’s unlike all other horses’:
I am not like everybody else.

On my back the sores, are oozing blood,
And my sides are trembling with the pain.
I would race, and gladly, with the herd -
But without the saddle and the rein!

 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 

I shall run today with other racers.
Racing time! I’m favourite today.
Everyone lays money on the pacers -
That’s the way the jockey’s money lay.

And he urges me with whip and spur,
Crowds are cheering, jeering like insane...
I would race, and gladly, with the herd -
But without the saddle and the rein!

 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 

No, today the jockey will not force me,
I will be the last one past the post;
I will teach the swine to use the horsewhip -
I will rear and kick, and come in last!

There’s the bell! My master pulls ahead.
He is grinning: victory spells gain.
Ah, how I would gallop with the herd -
But without the saddle and the rein!

What is this? What is it I am doing?
Aiding him, my enemy - the worst!
I’m beside myself, I’m spurting, flying -
It’s beyond me, not to be the first!

Ah, what can I do but spurt ahead!
Only first, I’ll throw him on his can -
Then I will race on, as with my herd,
With a saddle, but without the man!

I came first - and he can count his losses -
Only this time, pace or no pace.
I was just like all the other horses -
Out to win, like everybody else!