At the beginning of May, having somehow fought off the flock
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Somewhere with fangs, somewhere with a quiet squeal, somewhere with barking
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The she-wolf came out of the gorge, looking around nervously
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The cubs banged on the stomach, and waited for them
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Fussily nestled in a newfound lair
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She whined, thrashed helplessly against the sloping walls
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The moon flaunted in the sky, driving the clouds away
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That night she gave birth to four sons, one daughter
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Trembling faceless and blind gray lump
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The wolf cubs clung to their mother, fed on milk,
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And that one, either forgetting in a dream, or waking up in anxiety
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Satisfied licked muzzles, backs, but
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Only on the second day, a she-wolf, attracted by a stream, came out
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In a hurry to get drunk, a lifeless tail drags behind her
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The water sparkles, carrying down its fast stream
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And silence rang, suddenly a shot rang out
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So strange in our twenty-first century
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Not for fur or meat, but for fun
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Kill those who owe so much
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Not people and not animals, but something in the middle kind
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So strange in our twenty-first century
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Not for fur or meat, but for fun
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Kill those who owe so much
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Not people and not animals, but something in the middle kind
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It was getting dark, the fire flames of the sky touched
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All miners crumpled drunken fatigue
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It seemed that there was little of people left in them
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Only laughter, at home, no feelings or ideas
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Nature watched for a long time with clenched teeth
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Then thunder roared roughly, as if a trumpet attack
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And from there, out of the darkness, death seemed to be approaching
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First a drop, then two, three, the firmament absorbed
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A flood hit the heads of our guests
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The mist fell so that you can't see your fingers
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Water from above, water from the side, from rocks and crevices
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Water overthrew everything with a stream of dirty mudflows
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Then they searched for two weeks, each as best they could
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And I don’t dare to say whether God helped in the search
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And somehow managed to find two out of four
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The world is aimed at you if the world is at your feet
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So strange in our twenty-first century
|
Not for fur or meat, but for fun
|
Kill those who owe so much
|
Not people and not animals, but something in the middle kind
|
So strange in our twenty-first century
|
Not for fur or meat, but for fun
|
Kill those who owe so much
|
Not people and not animals, but something in the middle kind |