*
When lost in the wind, I am looking for you.
I’m weak to go through all the troubles.
The year on calendar is now a new,
but still there are no any marvels.
There’s no any toy under pillow for me,
when morning is waking me early.
No one will sit down on my hairy knee.
The hairs on it soft, black and curly.
I long ago felt, as your sweet of a tail
gives touch to a hand or a finger.
The wind is so high, and my struggle I fail.
I go through the parkways to linger.
I’m waiting for you for an hour or so.
There’s no anyone me to follow.
And only a wind gives to body a blow.
My heart and my soul are deep hollow...
*