Past Life

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I am wild, for I was born on the back of a horse,

I flew my beloved fields, a white stag on my left, a Turul bird above,

heart and locks in the wind,

whispering, enchanting and fighting

until the Great Plain of glory and light,

where I stood for a while –

about an eternity and beyond –

as mountains rose up between my tears and their fears

and the Danube sang a red lullaby

for my seven ever sleeping tribes,

while I kept on slicing the silence,

so the world could revere it again and again,

for I am wild, as I was born on the back of a horse.

Image by viarprodesign on Freepik

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