In the black night,
Fangs gleam below deep, cold, dead, eyes.
In the black night,
Huge lizard in shadowy light.
It rose from where the ox's grave lies.
Joke? Yet, the legend never dies,
In the black night.
Wisconsin, where I grew up, is rich in imaginative, humorous, and sometimes
scary, folk tales and literature. I was surprised to learn the Hodag was
supposed to have risen from the burning bones of Babe, Paul Bunyan's blue
ox.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This slice of Edgar Allan Poe works amazing well as a Rondelet and you have demonstrated the old French poetic form to perfection. Love the name Hodag (sounds like Dr Seus) and the fascinating legend is certainly worth relating. I am impressed. love, Allie xxxx