and so
he sits beside her on that
velvet sofa
she, on the other hand,
caresses
her great dane
the window is
overlooking the hill
and the chill
is nothing to count
as a spell
the great dane seems
not to like this
situation, barks at the man
as though
telling him that he is a pachyderm
and hence must leave
his love is not true.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem