On Simagogas ridge at dawn
To elephant cow a calf is born.
Renewal is a wondrous thing
And all the clan stand round in ring.
The mother speaks:
Who would rob me of my child
The future leader of the wild.
To elephants, kin is the word
The sacred bond that binds the herd.
The calf speaks:
And who would have me orphan be
For my mother's ivory.
Wild we, mother and I
In wild, wild land of dry.
The elephants of the ring speak:
Now this is the lore of the hefty grey
The old ones mind as the small ones play
And all things wild are our concern;
The wise ones teach and the young ones learn.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem