From Africa is the zebra.
Nowhere else does it roam
Innately, wild and free—
But in Africa, its home.
It feasts with the wildebeest,
And migrates with the same—
Steering clear of lions there,
Which sees it as fair game.
But, oh, the lovely zebra
With its stripes unique,
Brings a certain flair to life.
‘Tis nature's own mystique.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Some nice thoughts in appreciation of our monochromatic little horse.