ch. 10, v.31-43 (melting of the snows)

Tremble before the voice of dog; this is wisdom of your kind.
Retreat from this field before her swift and thundrous charge
Like ripples fleeing a boulder fallen into a stream.
Scatter before the bark of her resonant chest
As scatter the desiccated leaves of autumn before the gales of spring.



Yea, make the limbs of the trees your haven,
There to chatter the chatterings of your mouth at the ears of dog,
To cast the glance of your eye down upon her fearsome head,
And also the stray nuts of your storehouse.

But grow you not complacent in your altitude
For the eye of dog is upon you
Even as you travel the woody highway of the timber.
Her vigilance is ever vigilant.


Yes, I'm using the squeaky Uncle Matty voice here.
It even makes my skin crawl.

ch. 10, v.21-30 (melting of the snows)

In the fields made lush by the abundant waters of this season
Our companions do look upon us and ask together,
"Why does my dog eat of the soil and also of the turf?
What meaning does she ingest with the blade of grass,
What benefits her this meal made of dirt?"






Ask they not of the clear sky what it gains from the floating of the clouds?
Or of the adolescent male what is the benefit of the cool breeze upon his buttocks
That the seat of his trousers does not cover?

The turf and soil are good
And thus we do eat of them.