The beast does not just go.
Not with out taking a couple victims first.
Oh no, oh no!
A meal to stave the empty months upcoming.
For in the wild everything has to be hunted.
But here it is an easy pickings in the open and so defenseless.
He will be back.
You can count on that.
For that kind of hunger does not just die.
This is now his paradise.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem