A little green spade is my hound.
I hold it tightly in my hand.
I hardly ever put it in my mouth.
A little green spade is my hound.

When I sleep, it sleeps beside me.
Without a sound. It digs,
to my surprise, far deeper than me.
A little green spade is my hound.

It swims as a gun dog,
guards as a sheepdog. Never
takes a jog without me.
A little green spade is my hound.

If someone wishes to hurt him
I bark for him by choice, because
my poor little dog has no voice.
A little green spade is my hound.

Translation: Willem Groenewegen, 2010.