I extend myself at full length
and exert myself at full vigour
and cross an open plain
with my four fleet feet.
In chase of me swift horses are exhausted all.
But it whets hunters’ appetite in chase of me
A pack of hounds are fatigued in file.
I vie with death at every moment.
I am a grey wolf of the steppe.
A killer in the motor car speedes over a prostrate plain
and threatens me with hungry gun.
He wants to flay my skin.
But intelligent persons pursue me without stop.
Nature produced my personality and character
and made me to survive by my ability.
But humanity detest me wherever I am
And has its fingers on the trigger at me
Nobody pities me.
Every day I risk my life and eke out my livelihood.
I roam over miles and there is no prey to me.
I trot together with my shadow under the full moon.
My strength is exhausted and my legs staggered.
Capacious plain stretches out without bound.
I alone trot under the vault of heaven.
I as hungry wolf, feel a real sense of struggle
and its victory and defeat to my marrow.
I was born on earth as wolf
and my behaviour disgusted all decent folk.
I stare on the snow of winter night under a pale moon,
and howl because of my ravenous hunger and awe mountains.
I as grey wolf of steppe live on my ability
is a similar to a poet who pines for freedom
I cruelly bit off my trapped shank
because of my savage ferocity,
the fragment of my leg is left in a gully,
and a pang I experience.
I bleed my blood on the white snow
and run away with my three legs.
Merciless people incessantly ride on a car
and follow me up against chilly wind.
At the last moment I turn on him
In the last minute god had mercy on me
They fell over a gully bank
I am a grey wolf of the steppe
and have lost my one leg
in order to make a living
against a thorny life
I am a beast of the spacious steppe
and am called as savage.
It sounds odd
But the human beings are nonchalant
And more brutal and merciless than me.
Hellish treatment of man
gives me the heebie – jeebies
This ill treatment is understood
by only a born poet
Only Buddha can favour
Those ‘wrong doers’ without wrong
The ability to die like a hero
if not to live nicely
is given to the wolf and the poet
I am a grey wolf
and think as clever as possible
I can defend and detest myself
As the poet alone
Nobody pities me
I wish to die soon
I am a grey wolf
and experience my natural fate.
I am a grey wolf and hellish
and vie with my risk of life and storm
by echoing rolling hills with my howl
Verbal translation is done by