Do you give the pony his strength or clothe his neck with a flowing mane.
Do you make him leap like a locust, striking terror with his proud snorting.
He paws fiercely, annoyed at the little girl putting bows in his tail, and shampoo in his mane.
He laughs at fear, afraid of nothing; he does not shy away from the German Shepherd.
The sage brush rubs against his side, along with the small trees.
In frenzied excitement he eats up the hay; he cannot stand still when the grain is poured.
At the blast of the car horn he snorts, 'Aah!' He catches the scent of people from afar, the shout of commands and the baby cry.
