In the palest light, a hand bej**elled
Beckoned through the leaded panes
The leader of the four white stallions,
Standing silent on the stones
Without recourse to bit or reins.
"Take your beasts, oh trusted friend -
Bring the cattle from the train."
And saying so, the window opened.
All the j**els flashed together.
There upon the stones lay strewn
A hundred ears of golden grain.
The stallion reared above the window,
Once again now tight secured.
The other three behind their leader
Followed him where he may lead them,
Confident in life a**ured.
There behind the leaded window,
Lanterns to dispel the gloom
Lit the loaves and sacks of grain
That piled up to the oaken rafters -
Echoes of the drunken laughter
Coming from the room.
The stallion led the slow procession,
Naked in the freezing night.
Millions pa**ed the lighted window,
Begging for a hand of meal,
Disappearing out of sight.
In the room, the party blossomed.
In the room where lanterns shone,
All the wine has now been taken:
All the grain has now been planted:
All the bread has now been eaten:
Even the house has gone…