The Wish To Be A Red Indian - Franz Kafka

Franz Kafka

IF ONE WERE only an Indian, instantly alert, and on a racing horse, leaning against the wind, kept on quivering jerkily over the quivering ground, until one shed one's spurs, for there needed no spurs, threw away the reins, for there needed no reins, and hardly saw that the land before one was smoothly shorn heath when horse's neck and head would be already gone.


Translated by Willa and Edwin Muir


(c) Franz Kafka
Available in Complete Stories (Vintage)