A very wise, and old tradition
passed on through many generations
concerns the rules of going fishing
in all the lands, of all the nations
be not to take all you can get,
let little ones go out and grow,
and do not use a fishing net
attached behind your boat to tow.
Since Nature knows how to provide
for all her people and her critters,
you must go hunting far and wide,
and of the wild beasts' springtime litters
you may take one, perhaps a pig,
raise him at home to feed the tribe.
Always think small and don't act big
and only rarely do imbibe,
as white man's water, mixed with fire
can rob you of your heart and soul,
convert you into a big liar
and take away from you your role.
If there is one way that we measure
all man and beast by (ancient rules) ,
that word is HONOUR, and a treasure
and those who have it are no fools.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem