A juvenile field mouse frolics in the meadow
On a beautiful day in May
She scurries without worries and dances with daisies
Among anemone and monkshood she plays
Above the sweet mouse, a bald eagle flies
Hunger glistening in his gold, beady eyes
He spots the fragile creature and downwards he dives
On a beautiful day in May
The field mouse freezes up, not sure what to do
The taste of dandelions floods her mouth
Her tiny body trembles and she utters soft squeals
Cries and whimpers float away on the breeze
The bald eagle catches her in his claws;
Pecks and pecks at her delicate flesh
She feels her skin rip apart and blood dribble down
Drops of innocent life slide from her legs to the ground
As she is pecked to death and torn apart
She breathes in her last breath,
Taking in the heavy scent
Of iron, copper, and anemone
Finished with his deed, the bald eagle flies away
His hunger temporarily satiated
Just another day in May
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem