Wolf's wool is the best of wool, / but it cannot be sheared because / the wolf will not comply.
Truly as the sun can rot or mend, love can make one bestial or make a beast a man.
Which of us has not been stunned by the beauty of an animal's skin or its flexibility in motion?
We are suffering from too much sarcasm.
In a poem the words should be as pleasing to the ear as the meaning is to the mind.
... we do not admire what we cannot understand.