Stopped in our tracks
We stood in the wood
Seeing her pass before us:
She was the badger black and grey
Who shared our sylvan glenside.
Barely breathing in wonderment
We watched the quiet manoeuvre
As her three cubs in single file
Followed closely behind their mother.
They all had their birth
In their set in the earth
Beneath a tall beech on the hillside.
Today their thirst made them bold
To take their pathway of old
Down to the pool in the stream
To have a long drink of cool water.
They are known to be shy
Of the sun when it's high,
To hunt by the moon till daybreak.
We have new life in our glen
And imagine the thrill
To meet in our blue belled wooland.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem