The crack of a twig, the twitch of a tail,
Something moved on the jungle trail.
Crickets chirped in the warm night air,
And all the time, something else was there.
Moonbeams played on a tawny back,
Well hidden on that jungle track.
A man walked watchfully along the path,
In one hand a rifle in the other his staff.
Eyes looked around unblinking and bright,
And something moved in the shadows that night.
A hovering paw, a lithe silhouette,
To leap..To strike? Not yet, not yet...
The man, sensing movement, froze then turned,
Two amber eyes in the darkness burned.
Claws were extended and sheathed again,
Paws gently tested familiar terrain.
Crouching and poised four eyes were still,
Two wary hunters, both ready to kill!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very well written, great poem.