Cattle approach smelling the air and licking their noses
And it is the same for us who know we're lost
We incline a hillock slowly with bells ringing loudly
And tails twitching flicking, away nuisance vexations,
Irritations the likes we've never encountered before
We snort and shiver, turning left to right
But on reaching the brow of the hill, we see fresh pastures
Rolling Meadows and are glad to be once more fear free.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem