Century the Wolfhound

For the thundering valour Of future centuries, For the higher race of men, I have nursed both the cup At my father's feast And my joy and honour. The wolfhound of a century pounces on my Shoulders. But I am not a wolf by blood. Tuck me like a hat Into the sleeve of the hot fur coat Of the Siberian steppe. Take me to the night Where the Yenisei flows, And the pine tree reaches the stars. Because I am not a wolf by blood, And only my equal Will kill me. So that I see neither coward nor flimsy mart, Nor bloody bones in the wheel. So that the blue foxes shine all Night For me in their primeval Beauty. Take me to the night Where the Yenisei flows, And the pine tree reaches the stars. For I am not a wolf by blood, And only my equal Will kill me. Take Me to the night Where the Yenisei flows, And the pine tree reaches the Stars. For I am not a wolf by blood, And only my equal Will kill me.