Jacky Tiger is so old!
He is now not so bold.
Every morning he has to pray
to be able to find a prey.
He wants to run as fast
as he used to in the past.
Wants a deer for his lunch,
teeth are broken, how to munch?
Wants a rabbit for his dinner
How to catch it? He's no more a winner.
'Dear tiger, don't feel sad,
have some bread and be glad'
'I would rather prefer a fast,
until my life is passed'
He then lifted his aching back,
went to his cave, never came back.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem