You see nothing more than two-hundred animals,
identical.
Yet I can recognize each by her laughter.
And yes of course they laugh.
They intertwine their necks with the wind and they dance.
In the desolate, forbidding mountains
on the dark and silent paths
daily we walk together
sometimes they, sometimes I,
lead the march.
Like Bachâs sorrowful hymns
they dissipateâŠ
Sometimes swiftly, sometimes placidly
until upon us, the night descends.
And when the appointed day arrives
to Mother Earth I shall express my gratitude
to my dear animal, my appreciation,
and I will slaughter her.
I wonât waste a single drop of her bloodâŠ
Only we know of this exhortation
Only we know who we are
and although we shall cry knowing all of this, so shall we rejoice.
In the silent, distant meadows,
I am a herder.