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A Dog Has Died

Rating: 3.7
My dog has died.
I buried him in the garden
next to a rusted old machine.

Some day I'll join him right there,
but now he's gone with his shaggy coat,
his bad manners and his cold nose,
and I, the materialist, who never believed
in any promised heaven in the sky
for any human being,
I believe in a heaven I'll never enter.
Yes, I believe in a heaven for all dogdom
where my dog waits for my arrival
waving his fan-like tail in friendship.

Ai, I'll not speak of sadness here on earth,
of having lost a companion
who was never servile.
His friendship for me, like that of a porcupine
withholding its authority,
was the friendship of a star, aloof,
with no more intimacy than was called for,
with no exaggerations:
he never climbed all over my clothes
filling me full of his hair or his mange,
he never rubbed up against my knee
like other dogs obsessed with sex.

No, my dog used to gaze at me,
paying me the attention I need,
the attention required
to make a vain person like me understand
that, being a dog, he was wasting time,
but, with those eyes so much purer than mine,
he'd keep on gazing at me
with a look that reserved for me alone
all his sweet and shaggy life,
always near me, never troubling me,
and asking nothing.

Ai, how many times have I envied his tail
as we walked together on the shores of the sea
in the lonely winter of Isla Negra
where the wintering birds filled the sky
and my hairy dog was jumping about
full of the voltage of the sea's movement:
my wandering dog, sniffing away
with his golden tail held high,
face to face with the ocean's spray.

Joyful, joyful, joyful,
as only dogs know how to be happy
with only the autonomy
of their shameless spirit.

There are no good-byes for my dog who has died,
and we don't now and never did lie to each other.

So now he's gone and I buried him,
and that's all there is to it.

Translated, from the Spanish, by Alfred Yankauer
Luz Hanaii 19 March 2021
I can't believe this poem only had a rating of 3.7? I feel that many ignore that this is a very famous poet, now deceased on September 23,1973. But his classing work lives on.
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Varsha M 15 March 2021
Dogs are more faithful than humans. To have them in life is really a blessing. They are more than just a companion. Thry understand, respect, play and do everything that makes life beautiful. Loosing them is like loosing a gem of life.
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me poet yeps poet 15 March 2021
This poem has been composed by the best of poets POET LAURETTE IT desrves a 5 STAR at the least When my dog FLASHY died I CRIED FOR A WEEK And also composed a TRIBUTE so differently You all have read it BUT I BOW TO NERUDA THE NOBEL HOLDER OF POETRY RARELY GIVEN TO MANY
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thereen 12 November 2020
ugly ssssssssssssssssssssssoo
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Dr Antony Theodore 13 October 2020
Some day I'll join him right there, but now he's gone with his shaggy coat, his bad manners and his cold nose, and I, the materialist, who never believed in any promised heaven in the sky Materialist and his concept of heaven. tony
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Kay Lopez 24 March 2020
Lovely expression about the unconditional love and soulful qualities of the dog
1 0 Reply
Yeetyeet 06 February 2020
Thanks hahahahahhahajajahahajajhahahahahahahahahahhahaah
0 3 Reply
Rajnish Manga 04 January 2020
Life as well as the death of a pet dog- a companion- essayed by the poet through his own study, belief and philosophy. Thanks.
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Michael Walker 17 November 2019
A long piece of drivel. If I liked dogs, I might think differently.
2 11 Reply
Leeann Azzopardi 17 November 2019
when my dog has pass away i'll return to this poem it's so beautiful for such a beautiful animal
4 0 Reply

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