The small golden spaniel
first told me whining
and then barking
at the French windows
about the coming rain storm
and as always she was right
as ‘n bit later
I hear thunder flashes
falling far away
and suddenly the air
was overcast with black clouds.
Early she already wanted
her food and fresh water
and went to lie
on her dry hot bed
When the first drops started to fall
there were thunderbolts
falling outside in the yard
but still the black and white cat
was caught somewhere in the rain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem