Borodoro The Bull Poem by Tan Pratonix

Borodoro was a bull
Whom no matador had fought,
His skin was white as white as wool
And on his head there was a spot.

He lived beneath the Bulbul Tree
In the Forest of the Oll,
Where the grass was green as green could be
And the trees were very tall.

He lived a life of perfect ease,
Untroubled by the jungle cats;
A life of sunshine and of bees,
Of drowsy afternoons and gnats.

He ate all day and slept at night,
Dreaming dreams he loved to dream;
Soon he was a splendid sight,
Stout and bursting at the seam.

One day he met the Gadazook,
A buffalo without a tail,
Who gave him such a fierce look
That he with sudden fright turned pale.

The Gadazook had a stare
More deadly than a cobra's sting;
It could kill and cook a hare
Or slay a bird when on the wing.

The Gadazook had a cry
Which frightened every beast and bird,
And it is said that some do die
When that awful cry is heard.

The Gadazook had blood-red eyes
And a mouth which always foamed;
Black and of a massive size
Through the forest wide he roamed.

He looked at Borodoro long,
Full of hatred, full of spite;
He was fierce, huge and strong,
And black as black as night.

Borodoro looked bravely back,
For he had overcome his fright.
Then did the Gadazook attack,
But Boro fought with all his might.

For hours and hours the forest shook,
The fight was fierce as fierce could be,
Till at last the Gadazook
Fell beneath the Bulbul Tree.

Then Boro stood and bellowed loud,
An awful cry of victory;
The leaves, they fell down in a crowd,
Then all was silent as could be.

The Gadazook, the Gadazook,
The Gadazook was dead, was dead;
And once more the forest shook
Its leaves upon his coal-black head.