The old man sat in his fireside chair,
His old dog lay at his feet.
Silence, pregnant with regret.
"What if? " He asked his faithful friend,
"What if you die before I do?
Or if it happens I go first,
What will become of you? "
"It's been just we two for many years,
Family have we none.
The closest of bonds we share, my pal.
You're my surrogate only son."
The old dog opened just one eye,
Sees master prone upon the chair.
His eye then closed, his final sleep.
Two pals, no longer there.
Their lives they lived together.
In death they ne'er will part.
For somewhere in the great beyond
They'll make a fresh new start.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem