The moon is not too high,
Not so high in the sky,
Why its light is cool?
In a starry blue pool,
It appears so nice,
Seen it twice and thrice,
Why my eyes ask me,
Once more I should see,
Its face like she,
Just on the top of a tree.
By the way let me know,
When my hair will grow,
And why she is milky,
Why her hands are silky,
Why dark my complexion,
I remain in dejection,
Can you bring the moon?
Where it goes in the noon?
I shall play with the moon,
I shall sleep in the noon.
My lovely dear child,
How innocent and mild!
She was born in the day,
From a silky white clay,
You were born in the night,
Like moon you are bright,
Have a glass of milk,
Grow hair, make it silk,
See this silver bright tray,
Have moon in it and sleep,
The sleep should be deep,
She will come in your dreams,
Like this moon's streams.
And here is a flute,
Your symbol my cute!
Oh what nice poem. Beauty of moon, Chandny and her naughtiness very nicely penned. You are a great poet and I always like your style and I want to follow this beautiful style but you know I am... I always feel good after reading your poems.
A very cute poem for a cute child. Mother tells different stories to make the child just drink a glass of milk. finally convince the child to have it. With all the words, which mother has told, child sleeps in a beautiful dream. Loved reading it. Beautiful flow of words.
The innocence of childhood so beautifully described! Also the tricks mothers usually employ to make the child fastidious about food to have a glass of milk and also to put the naughty child to sleep! Enjoyed!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Childhood displayed in a subtle manner, nicely portrayed. Thank you for sharing.