This is a lonely horse.
It doesn't want to be driven.
It wants to break free from the reins of fate.
So he left his master.
Escape from the herd.
This is a lonely horse.
It drags its tired body to find happiness in the distance.
Only to find that there is no more lonely horse.
It jumped over the hill and waded across the stream.
Shuttle between cities
Its iron hooves have long been worn out and far away from that grassland.
This is a lonely horse.
It came to the water's edge.
Occasionally I see a shadow in the water, reflecting a vicissitudes of life horse face.
Its mane has already fallen off and it is covered with bruises.
Time has turned it into a lonely old horse.
It lay down slowly, thinking of the grassland, the horses running together, and the people who drove it away.
Turbid eyes can no longer see the distant road.
This is a lonely horse.
The grassland does not belong to it.
But he will always belong to the grassland.