Old fox, hard as nails,
thin, arthritic, rheumatic,
septic eruptions on sore feet,
keen nose and sorry bag of effluvium and entrails
up for the erectile, hard frost, and somewhere to go.
Lakeside path, snowdrop, primrose,
daffodil, an early bee,
an ermine's fur turning brown,
an effusive gushing of butterflies,
gold-finches, flycatchers.
Two seasons in equilibrium.
The rest is fusion.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I really love this poem, its so evocative, it reminds me of an old fox that used to visit.