black dog - yes, a black dog...

black dog                           
                                        
yes, a black dog.                      
I remember how I carried her in my bosom,       
    under the jacket. and sometimes I got it      
    and pressed his cheek to her.           
       black dogfluffy.          
 unfortunately, more                 
    I don't remember anything.                    
    even what she looked like.             
  only fragmentarily - a feeling of fluffiness and
the joy of that evening walk.       
  but who said that this is not enough!        
   and now, probablya black dog    
 is on your shelf again.  
  this thought is alsofluffyand             
               brings a piece ofjoy.  
 I WILL think about it many more times.     
      she will become a pieceof me.         
 for many, perhaps years.        
  SOMEDAY I WILL COME TOa black dog. 
I WILL look at her, stroke her and again   
                      press your cheek.
             and maybe even again         
I'll take it with me to the street.    
           along with you, by the way.      
 like this.