They come out at dusk, flat
shadows across the fields. They are composed in equal
parts of pig, badger, fox. Helplessness
is their principal distinguishing mark. They root in the snow
for something to eat. We find them unnatural:
their aimless wandering, their hunger, their obscene
lack of protection. At the first sign of danger the racoon dog
lies down and pretends to be dead. We find such behaviour
pitiful, we find the pitiful repulsive, we
are outraged by the hungry shadows of
this sugar-beet field, so unlike the snow leopard that silently
pursues its prey six thousand metres
above sea-level.
- Tua Forsström [my tr.]
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