I see a lonely figure,
Perch'd on a bike,
Cycling down the streets-
In his front carrier, ears peak'd,
Is a small, brown Pekingese:
'R100' he'd say, 'fine breed! '
I shan't call him by name,
But just dub him:
'The Dog-peddling Cyclist! '
He's a sorry sight, yet determined
To make a living, peddling dogs
To keep the wolf away from his door:
'By the sweat of your brows
shall you eat your bread! '
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem