Lost in the woods
I was thirsty
in mad search
for water, shelter.
Then I stumbled upon
the handsomest tiger cub
that looked at me
with fierce eyes.
I crouched down low
approached with caution
held out a hand
that made him growl.
Backing away
I saw he had scars
on his back, his paws;
he was bleeding.
I waited for the night
to slowly creep in
as he slept
I crawled next to him.
The next morning rose
he found me laying
on his side
but he didn’t move.
He realized
his wounds, scars were gone;
I looked at him, smiled;
his eyes finally gave in.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem