By Carlisle flows the Eden river
Which rises on Mallerstang hill.
It’s lovely country for a caver.
Where there’s a way I’ve got the will.
The stream has carved out some waterfalls.
Into a gorge it makes its way
There’s no way out by vertical walls
Just on and down by light of day.
Bending right and left I heard some “baas”
And round a corner found a lamb.
No broken bones and likewise no scars.
The same could not be said of “Mam”.
The lamb stood on a flat ledge of rock
And wasn’t keen to get wet through.
Going into water was a shock
But this is what it had to do.
Over small rocks and down the rapid.
There was no other way to go.
It walked a bit but sometimes it slid.
Down and round it went with the flow.
And then a large fall you could not climb.
Into the plunge pool I threw it.
Then jumped in after giving it time
To be carried downstream a bit.
The lamb was now heavier than before
And the waterfalls were behind.
With no loose rocks the footing was sure
And I carried it to be kind.
The gorge soon ended and up the bank
I climbed and then put the lamb down.
So into the soft green grass it sank,
Very tired but it did not drown.
I went to the farm to tell the tale
Of a hole in a drystone wall,
Of a tired lamb looking rather frail
And more sheep that could easily fall.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A captivating tale, written superbly! ! Thanks, Dave.