I crouch beneath a lofty pine,
the meadow in my view.
That cougar pelt will soon be mine;
It's what I have to do.
He killed a calf of ours last week;
I followed him this far,
and we've been playing hide-and-seek;
it's been kind of bizarre.
At last I see him ---- what a shock!
It seems that he's a she!
Behind her follow little cubs;
I see there's two ---- no, three!
I can't make orphans of those cubs;
I'll leave them free to roam.
I grab my rifle and my pack
and start my way back home.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem