Let us go then, you and I, to a place,
Where the green pasture spreads out against the sky,
Let us go then, you in gallop, to make haste,
Untill we reach a stream that lies beyond the wild rye,

Your confusion is whether or not to cross the river,
To put trust in me or to trust your own self,
Your instinct is akin to Navier or even stronger,
Everything is in asunder for you know not the depth,

Mute talk in whisper panders the wretched soul,
It may take just a few breaths or it may take a life time,
My sublime Equus trying its best to console,
For getting your trust, is not just a matter of time,

Rhythmic splashes sending waves through the Rhine,
Leaving eternal whispers echoing the bank behind.

Footnote: Verses 1 and 2 are allusions to Prufrock