Ah, steeds, steeds, what steeds!

Has the whirlwind a home in your manes?

Is there a sensitive ear, alert as a flame, in you every fiber?

Hearing the familiar song from above,

all in one accord you strain your bronze chests and,

hooves barely touching the ground,

turn in straight lines cleaving the air,

and all inspired by God it rushes on!"

-Nikolai V. Gogol