--by DaySounds, © 2017-18
Munching, Stomping, crackling,...
¡Buen provecho, señor alce!
With his mouth holding an end
Of the willow branch,
He, politely, offers me the other end.
He's sharing...his lunch.
Gracias, señor alce, ya almorcé,
A eso de la media pasadas las diez.
He looks up, still holding the branch,
Like saying, "Tú te lo pierdes, pal."
And, munching again, scoots over for me,
Just in case I want to join him.
Turning off the camera,
His invitation I accept.
The freezing wind right to my face
Is blowing the snow.
Next to him, I feel protected, warm.
"God is great. Isn't He?" I said.
He turns, looks at me, still munching,
And with a smile nods his head.
I don't know what else to say;
So, I sit down and open my Bible.
He does the same.
I lean on his fur and fall asleep.
Yelling and shouts wake us up.
"Get out of there. Are you crazy?
You are going to get killed. Away!
"Away, I say!"
Mi amigo el alce se incorpora;
Y, pensando que me quieren hacer daño,
Entre mí y los guardabosques
Se interpone .
Éstos, aún más alto, siguen gritando.
Yo, enmudecido y adormilado,
Quiero hablar, pero no puedo.
Estoy aterrorizado.
De repente, uno de los guardas
Saca una pistola y abre fuego,
Disparando vez tras vez,
Hasta que mi amigo, el alce,
Frente a mí sólo a unos pasos,
Sin vida yace.
De rodillas me inclino
Hacia su quieto cuerpo;
And, with a tear in my eye,
Le digo un adiós eterno.
