It`s too painful to continue this dog life,
for all the doghouse walls are like the edge of knife, he had thought.
A collard hound prowling around a cruel, immortal millstone,
-rounding by an old dogmatic dog in the manger-
Looking for daily bread and far-fetching collar string,
-a pre-existent, invisible and really inflexible string-
Was dogging his doggish days down the drain.
The dog-tired dog while his dogs were barking,
Couldn`t hunt, neither the bread nor the string.
Submerged and completly deaf and blind,
Under the shady shadow of dogged millstone,
He was willingly barking his last barks,
While vomiting his former-life, by his own string.
His barks let sleeping dog lie, while
He can`t rememberhis putrid nightmare…
Even the vultures, having dogfight above it,
Don`t ask for whom the bells toll at night;
And I am still gazing at the poor pointer forget to breath,
Stopped on at eleven, at rest…