My dead cat is fluent in Swedish.
He speaks Swedish well.
He’s like: “Hej. Jag heter Bruno.”
He’s also like: “Göteborg är Sveriges andra stad.”
He’s so fluent in Swedish
That he gets by in most every situation,
From negotiating IKEA
To ordering a pizza
Or even asking about tourist information in Stockholm.
I’m proud of my cat.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You put a smile on my face. It reminds me of a dog we used to have. He was called, Rocky Livingstone Balboa Walker. (It's a long story) . A great poem.