I went for a walk in the meadow
And spied an old dog in the hay;
Now old dogs know old tricks much better-
And none is so tricky, as they.
I walked close, to peek at him sleeping
But nary a word would I say;
Cause when old dogs are sleeping dogs, dreaming-
Well it's better to let sleeping dogs lay.
I left him un-bothered and sleeping,
I left him passed out in the hay,
And went on my way, till the night time-
And hope every dog had his own day.
And should every day have it's own dog,
In this dog-eat-dog world where we be,
Just remember who lies down with dogs
Is bound to get back up with fleas.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Excellent! ... and dawg-gone good too!