The lion runs over the sun-bathed plains,

Into the mountains where it rains.

No longer a lion, but a goat,

It treks up high, and then shakes its coat.

Fur turns into feathers; it is now an eagle in the sky.

It flies down the terrace to the place where it is dry.

It lands as a camel, and this creature ventures along

To the edge of the desert, where no cactus belong.

As a rabbit, through the steppe it hops.

It soon comes to a forest, and there, it stops.

The creature rises up on its feet;

A deer it becomes, its antlers nearly complete.

The beauty finds its way to a river,

Fur to fish scales, it swims its way down, and then gives a quiver.

It grows ten times its size, into a whale;

The whale journeys to the arctic, where it grows fur on its tail.

The wolf runs with mighty paws deeper north,

A polar bear it becomes, and it heads on forth.

It lives on as, but scarcely alive.

The ice it is on has failed to strive.

The bear dies, but still, it is not gone.

With our help, the life cycle of animals could still live on.