The jungles of South Asia are noisy, warm and dark;

Then titan longhorn beetles stand up and chirp the dawn,

And Borneo goes silent as footsteps shake the bark,

While a strange, gigantic creature lumbers out onto the lawn.

It lifts up its proboscis and bugles in delight;

Its dark gray wall of iron hide scrapes branches of bamboo;

It has large arrays of wrinkles and scars from many a fight;

Instead of many animals with no tusks, it has two.

In the middle of that forest, in the brightening light of day,

The elephant loudly yodels another morning-call.

Why not believe in goblins, in pixies, trolls and fey,

If such a marvelous creature even exists at all?