Fade into minor hazards outside our hills,
Where I happen to be in trouble from the wolves.
Happen then - wolves must describe the levers of pain,
I am crucified by them if they come near.
Outside our hills are many wondrous creatures -
They are illegal to the sight and touch,
At most a leaver must keep question
And a new supper for them who eat.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem