The doe and fawn
Traveled through the dawn
Through shrub and brush
All the while remaining a-hush
and galloping past
Mid-day at last
Fawn and doe
And rivaled foe
Come face to face
In this very wooded place
But when the fawn becomes so riled
The doe is there to console her child
As mothers often do
When the nightmare’s through.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem