Standing forlorn, alone hidden among bushes
Battled, bloody, weary, defeated for harem
Victor younger stag new monarch of the Glen.
Waiting for wounds to heal to fight again
Reclaiming his dominance and crown
Bringing the young pretender down
Chasing him from herd into solitary exile.
Away in the distance hunting wolves howl
Defeated stag lifts head eyes wide with fear
Knowing they have found his scent
Smelt blood and are coming for the kill.
Stepping forward with antlers lowered
He prepares to fight his last battle.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem