Running, running, running after why little stupid dog,
why does she have to be such a hog?
Taking that poor gosling out of her home,
Bringing her out there, all alone.
Slice goes the rocks, against this skin bare,
trying to reach this dog and grab her by the hair.
Closer I come and yet farther she runs,
this is what I get for letting her roam.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
good writing, I like it, thanks.