The Giraffe - Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev

Today I see that your look is particularly sad,
And your hands are particularly fragile, clasped over your knees.
Just listen: far, far away, on Lake Chad
Roams a proud giraffe.
He has been blessed with gracefulness and bliss,
His hide is decorated with a magical pattern,
That only the moon would dare to compete with,
Glistenting and bouncing on the wetness of the wide lake.
From a distance he looks like the coloured sail of a ship,
And when running he glides, like the flight of a gleeful bird.
I know that there are a lot of miraculous things to see in the world,
When at sunset he hides himself in a marble grotto.
I know the merry fairy tales of mysterious lands
About a dark maiden, about the fear of a youthful chief,
But you have breathed in the heavy fog for too long,
You don't want to believe in anything but the rain.
And when I tell you about a tropical garden,
About straight-standing palms, about the unbelievable scent of the grasses…
You're crying? Just listen… far away, on Lake Chad
Roams a proud giraffe.

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Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev (1886 - 1921)
Translated by Lindsay Malcolm