My throat is burning, my heart is bursting I’m still living, but only just we’re in captivity, in captivity running in circles, no chance for a thrust they’re raising rifles, they have us ambushed the air is thick with laughter and lead bullets flying, wolves are dying give us shelter, or else we are dead They’re slaughtering the pack, slashing youngsters killing female wolves, then male and greying wolves the hunters hollering, the beasts are howling and there is blood in the snow and blood on every flag. The fight is uneven, they’ve got their rifles and know the ways of the wolves and the laws of the pack curbing our freedom with flags of red colour vampyres on our track they’re trained to kill with snigger we’re raised on mother’s milk as in a lair we lie sucking from her with vigour those red flags we’ll never run by They’re slaughtering the pack, slashing youngsters killing female wolves, then male and greying wolves the hunters hollering, the beasts are howling and there is blood in the snow and blood on every flag. Our paws and our jaws quick and rapid so pack leader I need an answer from you: why do you let us be shot at and slaughtered forcing the tribal taboo this lawfulness seems without ending therefore we’re nailed to the spot as my predestined assassin looms sneeringly, set for a shot They’re slaughtering the pack, slashing youngsters killing female wolves, then male and greying wolves the hunters hollering, the beasts are howling and there is blood in the snow and blood on every flag. I disobeyed, evaded the banners my thirst for life grew too strong the last thing I saw was my kinsmen in a wolfish exuberant song my throat is burning, my heart is bursting still living, now making my way away from the trap, grabbing my freedom and the hunter is left without prey They’re slaughtering the pack, slashing youngsters killing female wolves, then male and greying wolves the hunters hollering, the beasts are howling and there is blood in the snow and blood on every flag.
© Jørn Simen Øverli. Translation, ?