I'm dog, I sail my blithe days free
There's nobody to browbeat me.
Sleep on the couch, the whole day through
That's what I'm supposed to do.
I fetch balls, do paper tricks
Scratch myself and lick my?
Of my dreams, you have no hunch
And on good days, I eat your lunch.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem