Crossfield

Across the field riding a mare
Our hair-style on the air
Like winds in the south
Mind my dreams
What about our fate,
Where are we going
If there is no way
But an end,
Riding relish the wind too
Like if hell were the fear
But a sun bright in
our side,
Riding we continue cloud
Even claim: if raining
Were mine will wet
You like spring wine,
........