Ode to the dog
The dog is asking me a question
and I have no answer.
He dashes through the countryside and asks me
and his eyes
are two moist question marks, two wet
inquiring flames,
Dog and man: together we roam
The open countryside
The dog makes stops,
chases bees,
leaps over restless water,
listens to far-off
pees on a rock,
and presents me the tip of his snout

as if it were a gift:
it is the freshness of his love,
his message of love.
And he asks me
with both eyes:
why is it daytime? why does night always fall?
why does spring bring
in its basket
for wandering dogs
but useless flowers?
This is how the dog
asks questions
and I do not reply.
a gust of orangey air,
the murmuring of roots,
life on the move,

breathing and growing,
and the ancient friendship,
and joy
of being dog or being man
fused in a single beast
that pads along on
six feet,
its dew-wet tail.

Pablo neruda

Homerdog - Via A. Einstein 34, 35048 Stanghella (PD) - P.I. 04595080286
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