the clumsy lumbering
frightening I suppose
the old silverback
grown soft and fat now
you were a golden
champion of the mountain
a breath of frost
on the Yellowstone River
seeking Cutthroat trout
and ripe sarvisberry
now the winter comes
and you are ready
before the first snow
you wonder
you turn into the cave
with no prayer
the leaves wait for ice
soon you will rest
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem