Stallions, like species of all creatures, countless in legends,
Chetak, an Indian horse, was peerless in elegance!
Arion, per myths, speaking-horse! Balius, immortal!
Chetak, wise! Served his master, never with ego at all!

Stallion of Maharana Pratap, the king of Mewar,
Had to indulge, with small and great kings, frequently in war;
As one of his great generals, so stood noble Chetak,
Fought war after wars; gained laurels in many a barrack!

Shorter than the tallest of breeds; gallantly graceful gaze!
Sparkling eyes! Soulful search! Not proud, yet, peacock-like neck blaze!
Like plant plumes, curling combing conveniently coiling ears!
Blue heron-like shiny blue skin! He’s unique in all spheres!

In majesty, he was king-like! None but the king could hold!
In the run, jump, hop, and gallop, he was boldest of bold!
Pompous! Pugnacious! Alert like a tiger with her cubs!
Courageous to cross hurdles and fall! Or get into drubs!

In a war with the Mughals in the Aravali pass,
King Maharana Pratap and Akhbar were face to face!
Troops of both stood valorous; It’s a dire dare: Do! Or die!
Kill or get killed! Or as weakling bid existence: Goodbye!

Remembering and applauding the courageous soldiers,
Who feels forget Chetak thrashing all iron-like boulders?
Fought furiously holding his master on his back strong,
Moved with him, like a leaf with the breeze, victory to bong!

Elephant of Akhbar, with his tusk, leg of Chetak, tore,
Firm on fighting for the fame of his master, pains he bore;
Opponent defeated; war won; reaching his master home,
He collapsed; Like a strong soldier; left to his loyal loam!