The sky was dark and grey and heavy
The snow came thick as night-time fell
'Why it's enough' an old man murmured
'To make the devil stoke up well
For sure this cold will reach to hell
And so with envy for the devil
Which must have made the devil snigger
He walk along the empty street
A lonely solitary figure
As every falling flake grew bigger
Now the street stood long and empty
Now the wind much harder blew
And for while that was the picture
Until a shape came into view
Daring the cold which colder grew
A little dog, why just a pup
No bigger than the doorstep stood
His face one lost and lonely look
His legs moved still like sticks of wood
As cold wind cut through flesh and blood
His big Brown eyes could barely see
His legs could barely hold his form
Yet still he watched the burning lights
Within the houses save and warm
A shelter from this cruel storm
He stopped and gave a plaintive cry
A tiny mournful pleading wail
As he heard laughter from a house
As snow it turned to stinging hail
And he lost feeling in his tail
His little heart had gone the limit
His head and tail both hanging low
For there was no protection from it
This constant wind and endless snow
There was no place for him to go
Then he fell where he was standing
The eyes closed slowly in his head
There an old man came and saw him
And looking down he softly said
'It's not a night a dog should tread'
Saying so he picked him up
And passed his coat around him tight
And pressed him close to make him warm
To hide him from this cruel night
The dog, eyes closed, breathed soft and quite
The storm it seemed to scream in anger
The hail around them bounced and broke
'We'll soon be safe in a nice warm room'
The man looked down as he softly spoke
'So the wind can blow and the devil stoke'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem