I am racing, unalike from others,
Through the fields and puddles, through the melt...
"Here’s a pacer running," someone utters,
And it means I differ from the rest.

But my rider never leaves my back,
Stirrups hit my plexus, causing pain.
I agree to running in a pack,
But not under saddle and no reins!

Any knife is harmless as a needle
If it cannot leave its guarding sheath.
So I’m saddled, harnessed, I’m enfeebled,
And this bit attacks my lips and teeth.

I’ve developed lesions on my back,
I am trembling near the water lanes.
I agree to running in a pack,
But not under saddle and no reins!

I will have to beat the other racers,
For I am the favorite today!
Everyone is betting on the pacer,
But it is the jockey who delays!

In the grandstands many smiles are cracked,
While he’s jabbing spurs into my ribs.
I agree to running in a pack,
But not under saddle and no reins!

At the line the stallions are prancing,
They are vexed by everyone they see.
In excitement, madness, rage and frenzy,
They are foaming at the mouth like me.

My own rider’s favored on this track,
He’s an expert at these riding games.
Oh, I’d love to run along a pack,
But not under saddle and no reins!

No, his days will not be lived in clover!
I will be the last one to arrive.
To repay him for his spurs and collar
I will lose my footing, slow my drive.

Here’s the bell! My jockey is on track -
How he laughs, expecting easy gains!
Oh, I’d love to run along a pack,
But not under saddle and no reins!

What’s the matter? Why do I act meekly?
I assist my enemy, I’m cursed!
I cannot control myself completely,
For I can be nothing but the first!

What am I to do? I’ll have to sack,
Throw my hateful jockey in the air.
And then run, as if I’m with a pack,
Under saddle, reins, but he’s not there!

I’ve arrived, and he will dawdle later -
Through the fields and puddles, through the melt...
For the first time I was not a pacer,
I just strove to win like all the rest!