upon a tree stump i sit
through misty fog
my cigarette well lit
then i saw alone dog
its tail wagged
tongue popped out
as i dragged
my lips did pout
having yet another puff
so to did that little mutt
he surely did take a snuff
up to heaven in doggy hut
the grim reaper popped up
with his great big scythe
said 'next time yup
you'll be hung up by withe'*
(*withe: noun: band or rope made of twisted twigs or stems
noun: strong flexible twig)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem