Our ruler to the hunt proceeds;
And black as iron are his steeds
That heed the charioteer's command,
Who holds the six reins in his hand.
His favorites follow to the chase,
Rejoicing in his special grace.
The season's males, alarmed, arise--
The season's males, of wondrous size.
Driven by the beaters, forth they spring,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem