my descendant has rappelled those cliffs
in search of the delicacy they call it eggs
they have been bitten and scratched by wings
some were unlucky to not to tell those tales
they were the bones bigger than cat tails
and were the ballads of full moon's tribal feast
claws adorn their necklace; feathers their hats
they mimic the flight of an eagle; gliding to heaven
with thundering feet accompanied by clapping hands
with an abrupt scream to scare away the evil wind
a downward draft that so many times suck them in
losing their egg baskets and maybe journey to end
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem