Sky-clad the hungry wolves leap
at shadows in the snow,
shadows by moon and tree
that cold winds blow.
Smiling at this the trackers, sure in mind,
in circles of hope wind, ever wind.
The wolf has settled now in the snow,
while the tracker trudges, grin-frozen and slow,
grin-frozen and slow, and slow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Each word contributes so beautifully..creates the picture perfectly. Thanks
Thank you so much for the feedback, Seema!