Sinews out, I am shooting on forward,
But today is the same as before:
I am cornered again, I am cornered,
Being merrily chased to a score.

Double-barrels are smacking behind firs,
In the shadows, wherein marksmen hide.
On the snow wolves are tumbling and writhing,
Having turned into moving bulls-eyes.

It is wolf hunting in full swing, it is wolf hunting,
A hunt for grizzled raptors, both mature and pups!
The cries of baiters and, like vomiting, hounds’ barking.
Against the snow white, scarlet spots of blood and flags.

Forest rangers don’t play it as equals.
Nonetheless, their hands are exact:
Having fenced in with flags our freedom,
They shoot confidently, for a fact.

Wolf packs cannot infringe their habits.
Seems that being new born, still blind cubs,
Sucking mother-wolf, we, trusting puppies,
Have sucked in with the milk ‘Not on flags!’

It is wolf hunting in full swing, it is wolf hunting,
A hunt for grizzled raptors, both mature and pups!
The cries of baiters and, like vomiting, hounds’ barking.
Against the snow white, scarlet spots of blood and flags.

Legs and canines of ours are smartly.
Leader, give me the answer then, why
Being baited, we rush towards marksmen,
While the banned being not even tried.

None of us can behave otherwise, so
Here is likely the end of my life.
And the marksman, who I am destined for,
Smirks self-confident, raising his rifle.

It is wolf hunting in full swing, it is wolf hunting,
A hunt for grizzled raptors, both mature and pups!
The cries of baiters and, like vomiting, hounds’ barking.
Against the snow white, scarlet spots of blood and flags.

I’m exceeding the bounds of obeying -
Thirst of life demands over the flags!
And I joyfully hear behind me
Only humans’ loud flabbergast cries.

Sinews out, I am shooting on forward,
Only this time is not like before!
Being cornered again, being cornered,
Yet the hunters are now left at naught!

It is wolf hunting in full swing, it is wolf hunting,
A hunt for grizzled raptors, both mature and pups!
The cries of baiters and, like vomiting, hounds’ barking.
Against the snow white, scarlet spots of blood and flags.