That dog and I. He has withdrawn
into himself, and I
- I had laid my hand
on his back, his coat wrinkled,
I had looked into his eyes and he
stared up at my face as though
he was looking for something from my lips,
I had muttered something and
he laid himself down, sighed
and went to sleep -
I must have been something
in that hand, that face, those lips,
something I once knew, but that is now
hidden away in him, that dog.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem