The silver fox is leading me,
through a world both fresh and new.
Leading me into the woods,
to taste the midnight dew.
The colors are brighter, he smiles,
the woods are quiet and serene.
And the fox has found us a home,
Where my soul he will help clean.
The fox is my protector, my guide,
And in his world I am safe and warm.
In his cosy little foxhole,
sheltered from the storm.
The fog is coming,
to swallow me away,
and I wish I could have said goobye,
before the break of day.
The Fox is gone,
the tempest rages,
the woods are gone,
the birds in cages.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem