Here's a translation of one stanza from "The Twa Dogs" -
The other was a ploughman's collie,
A rhyming, ranting, raving rollicking young friend,
Who for his friend and comrade had him,
And in his youth had Luath named him,
After some dog in Highland song,
Was made long past - Lord knows how long.
He was a wise and faithful cur,
As ever leaped a ditch or stone fence.
His honest, pleasant, white streaked face
Always got him friends in every place;
His breast was white, his shaggy back
Well clad will coat of glossy black;
His joyous tail, with upward curl,
Hung over his buttocks with a swirl.
Burns could have been describing our dog, Mo!
Thoughts about sustainable agriculture and forestry from the Sierra Nevada foothills.
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