Alexander Rosenbaum. Foal (№ 363145)

Not on days you grew by leaps and bounds, voragen Gypsy
Was the milk you Rosa, was the steppe meadow.
I remember that I would run his heart's content, but to walk Zaman,
Jump like a plague on hitching post, right in the dust lying around.
Well, my grandfather gray smiled in his mustache,
All shouted: "That's crazy, just like his father, son of a bitch.
He was too good to leave the chase.
From ears to tail was on fire - lay".
Anybody to itself did not admit, even with white sugar,
Nurse times the bejesus out of me, oohing and aahing:
"Oh, look, my son, will disappear from the cliff the fool dropped".
Only I knew that will not fail me, my good.
So cute, leaping, but people call me,
Something Hoop steel much heart squeezed.
But nothing far to go,
Take care of yourself, I don't forget.