Ode to Victor Hugo (51)
Child
The most inchanting creature immaginable
Appel-cheeked, pink and healthy,
Seeing the other children of their swing,
She stopped short, rotated like a ring
And put out her tongue
in token of delight
Swiftly as if she took a flight
She had found a scrap of wood
To use as spade
And was energically digging
Swaying like a wave
What might have been a mouse's grave
Even a gravedigger's work is charming
fascinating, heartwarming,
When done by a child!
Freyad Hugo
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem