Have you heard speak of the tribe of my brethren?
No! Well, come with me and count their numerous horses:
There are colours which will please you.
Behold those horses white as snow that falls in its proper season;
Those black as the slave carried off from Soudan;
Those others green[[12]] as the reed that grows on the banks of rivers;
Those, again, red as blood that spirts first from a wound,
And those blue[[13]] as a pigeon when it flies beneath the sky.
Where are those rifles so straight,
quicker than the winking of an eye?