Entranquiled by a darted potion
Upon his bushheld range,
The elephant's world is in slow motion
It seems almighty strange.
Presently he falls down in slumbers;
People rush to his side
For they would track him as he wanders
His range in easy stride.
And when his paraplegia clears,
He is enhanced by tech
For a transmitter now he wears
In collar round his neck.
And by the means of this device,
As all will surely guess
The bearings, when they're measured twice,
His whereabouts express.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
~^I enjoyed your poem. thanks for sharing.