Zajc Dane:
The Captive Wolf
Run, run, run.
With velvet steps.
With sinewy wild legs.
Run quietly like a silent grey spirit,
run around the cage,
upon the rotting leaves.
Run ahead.
Run back.
With open muzzle.
With red tongue.
Run like the grey shadow,
the grey silent shadow of hatred,
the grey shadow of contempt
in the cage.
Run. Run. Run.
Howl, howl
wild and hostile.
Where do packs of wolves run free.
Where do droves of grey spirits,
float in milky moonlight
like the core of a devilish flock.
Where are the soft throats of sheep.
O gorge on the sweet blood of sheep.
O howl. Howl.
Why do you howl, wolf,
as the earth howls,
when crushed by a mountain of rocks?
Why do you howl, wolf.
Why do you howl,
as if you had caught in your gullet
long black thorns.
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