The High Bridge above the Tagus River at Toledo 

A young man, alone, on the high bridge over the Tagus which was too narrow to allow the sheep driven by the lean, enormous dogs whose hind legs worked slowly on cogs to pass easily . . .

(he didn’t speak the language) 

Pressed against the parapet either side by the crowding sheep, the relentless pressure of the dogs communicated itself to him also above the waters in the gorge below. 

They were hounds to him rather than sheep dogs because of their size and savage appearance, dog tired from the day’s work. 

The stiff jerking movement of the hind legs, the hanging heads at the shepherd’s heels, slowly followed the excited and crowding sheep. 

The whole flock, the shepherd and the dogs, were covered with dust as if they had been all day long on the road. The pace of the sheep, slow in the mass, governed the man and the dogs. 

They were approaching the city at nightfall, the long journey completed. 

In old age they walk in the old man’s dreams and still walk in his dreams, peacefully continuing in his verse forever.