After the sockeye spawns,
before its corpse
is picked clean
by the ravening
raven,
it has a moment
to remember
its headlong race
upstream
past lunging grizzlies,
up churning rapids
to the quiet, clear,
nursery where it mates,
sinks to the bottom
and dies,
mission,
and emission,
accomplished.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem