Iím sprinting, my ligaments strain As in all other wolf hunts I faced I am trapped and encircled like game Towards numbered flags I am chased They are firing from behind the pines Where hunters hide out in the shade In white snow leaving blood-soaked lines Living targets we all have been made Another wolf-hunt is in play, another easy snare For all grey predators, both young and old The dogs are barking and the hunters swear Blood in the snow, red flags and bitter cold The game is rigged, its outcome is fixed My packís freedom is hampered by flags Huntersí hands must be firm not to miss Shooting us at close range with lead slugs A wolf always respects his tradition Even puppies with fur soft as silk Crossing red flags is a prohibition Suckled in with the wolf-motherís milk Another wolf-hunt is in play, another easy snare For all grey predators, both young and old The dogs are barking and the hunters swear Blood in the snow, red flags and bitter cold We have strong jaws and very keen eyes Pack leader, please enlighten your crew Why we cower and yearn for demise Not attempting to break this taboo A wolf can not his innate instincts stifle I feel my time is running out quick My would-be killer lifts his hunting rifle I almost hear its trigger go "click" Another wolf-hunt is in play, another easy snare For all grey predators, both young and old The dogs are barking and the hunters swear Blood in the snow, red flags and bitter cold Yet I rebel and go against the rules My instincts outweighed by will to live I run towards the red flags placed by fools And I break through their fluttering sieve Iím sprinting, my ligaments strain As in all other wolf hunts I faced I am trapped and encircled like game This time hunters are left in disgrace Another wolf-hunt is in play, another easy snare For all grey predators, both young and old The dogs are barking and the hunters swear Blood in the snow, red flags and bitter cold
© Trotta.Gnam. Translation, 2016