My Son Quarreled with Me

A young elephant son was killed inhumanly in a human village. I am trying to express his mother's tearful grief with my incompetent words.

Can't We Live in Harmony

My son quarreled with me,
And stomped away angry.
There has been no food for us,
For days we have been hungry.

“The house animals,” said he,
“Loot our food from home.
Destroy and disturb our life,
As they rampage and roam.”


He and his two friends in need,
Strayed into the settlement.
Ate of sundry fruit and vegetable,
And moved about and rent.

Noise and shout filled the air,
People ran out in night.
Each calling out to the other,
In burning torches’ light.

A shot was heard in dark,
That felled my son in the field.
He was a youth of large physique,
Had nothing with him to shield.

His companions fled to the forest,
To save their life and skin.
While my only son lay lifeless,
Alone, without kith or kin.

They wrenched his teeth first,
Then they cut off his feet.
Each took off a piece as memento,
To the progeny, a pride of treat.

His remains could not be brought,
For any rites of funeral.
Neither could we have a glimpse,
Of him before his burial.

They buried him where he lay,
Without respect or tears.
The cruel two-legged animals
Everyone hates and fears.

Can’t all animals live in harmony,
Not intruding on others’ domain?
Isn’t this planet our common home,
Its water, green, sun and rain?

Xavier Bage