(on the occasion of Elephant Day)
(i)
Surge of wind,
a two-legged
tornado whizzed
to cut corners
cleaving emerald
clouds of grass
sprouting from
the rising mountain
of your strides,
O elephant,
one clubbing leg
rolled on rails
of your track
one raking
brushing step
after the other
around dust
in breezy feathers
and a trailing
zephyr, a trumpet
of you elephant
carrying no gale,
but a mass
of your breezy
stroll, trumpeting
life, your trunk
spinning
a trumpet's bell.
Hilly ambling
elephant
spinning a breeze,
you walk
in and through
your elastic
wind sowing
into earth
mulch for egret
claws to
leave their print
on your back
and on
your paw falls
to harness
the growing
mound of you,
your babies
tracking you
to stroke your tail;
leaving a silver
flower of earth
to stand
on tentacled roots
wheeling you
through the breeze
of your flapped
ears, wings
that fly as you stand,
swirling into
a hunter green
screen
of reeds
and grassy vines
weaving a nest
of walls
to creep and curl
with fern grass.
(ii)
You're not
the four-legged
storm surge,
the hurricane
wheeled
to crush life,
but you walk
across your
ambling
field of a slow
wind
and breeze,
breathing out
a paced gale
of strokes
and brushes
from your
swinging trunk
touching
deep larynxes
like the keyboard
of a piano
shooting out
a bass to fly
with a rolling drum,
the only guard
riding
on your back,
the wind of a trunk
trumpeting
through life.
Elephant,
you carry
no storm's
cutting swoop,
a beast larger
than you
standing,
while you roll
into a breeze.
(iii)
O storm
of a poacher
in a field
of camouflaging
.grass
and brush,
let his trajectory
stroke a muzzle
to pop out
only with a puff
pushing
a fast wind back
to slip
by the elephant
as it strolls back
into its breezy
castle
of ambling space.
(iv)
Elephant
in your storm,
spin
and stitch
a slowed-down
pace into
faster strides
on space cut
through
and trailed
by your babies.
Let man's
giant strides slip
by your
hare pace,
as you settle
in the palisaded
undulating
space
of your castle.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'Let man's giant strides slip by your hare pace' - Very well said!