A long, long, long, long time ago around thirty-five hundred BC
There lived a man whose name back then meant, 'A look so menacing'
His beloved horse, 'Bzow', fell harshly ill and soon to death he did heed
Sosruko vowed on the soul of Bzow to sit astride no other steed
Soon after a sudden, crucial assembly was made
To which, Sosruko must travel with much, much haste
On foot he set for three days and three nights
Until the bank of a raging river came close in his sights
'Twas a lone stallion grazing the banks, Sosruko, then spied
He tore a sliver of mulberry bark, as they first struck eyes
Slips the bark in the mouth of the beast and at once made reins
Leaps on his back, one hoof treads water, as the mustang struggled and strained
Thrashing hard against a raging torrent in the fear that he'd drown
Again and again and again and again, the beast wears himself down
Patient and wise, Sosruko, urges the beast across safe
Sosruko then, had broken his vow and the beast was tamed