The pawn stands in front of you,
You, calm and unbeding king,
You see nothing as your shadow,
Power thinks she planted.

The queen is your mirror,
She is master and dictates,
To the pawn full-faced you,
To stay there just for guarding.

A horse with wind-hook appears,
To wonder where and bring,
The pawn feeling alive,
Self-awakening itself.

Now there is no mate and no chess,
But the pawn is riding,
Proud he stay and look forward,
Self-rising with ardour.

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