Gimlet eyed and swivel headed
Sitting preening tawny feathers.
Tree's trinket perched amid still night
'Til wisecrack hooting causes fright
To a late straggler in the park
Drunkenly weaving through the dark.
Now Ollie's flying, swooping low,
Snatches an unsuspecting vole.
Decides to tear him off a strip
And eats up all the gooey bits.
Content, replete, back on his perch
Nature's hunter calls off his search!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem