Carl Michael Bellman
Cradle-Song For My Son Carl
Little Carl, sleep soft and sweet:
Thou'lt soon enough be waking;
Soon enough ill days thou'lt meet,
Their bitterness partaking.
Earth's an isle with grief o'ercast;
Breathe our best, death comes at last,
We but dust forsaking.
Once, where flowed a peaceful brook
Through a rye-field's stubble,
Stood a little boy to look
At himself; his double.
Sweet the picture was to see;
All at once it ceased to be;
Vanished like a bubble!
And thus it is with life, my pet,
And thus the years go flying;
Live we wisely, gaily, yet
There's no escape from dying.
Little Carl on this must muse
When the blossoms bright he views
On spring's bosom lying.
Slumber, little friend so wee;
Joy thy joy is bringing.
Clipped from paper thou shalt see
A sleigh, and horses springing;
Then a house of cards so tall
We will build and see it fall,
And little songs be singing.
Carl Michael Bellman's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Cradle-Song For My Son Carl by Carl Michael Bellman )
- Within Poetical Interludes, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Look In Your Ear - Haiku, Robert Eckstein
- ~Someone Knows~, E Nigma
- In Egoless Silence We Bore..., Mr. Nobody
- Pleasure Of Desire, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- It is all true, gajanan mishra
- Poet Persona and YOU, which is which?, Mr. Nobody
- Saturated, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- I would never hurt you, The Princess is
- One Mode of Mortal Devotion, William Park
Poem of the Day
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
- Heather Burns
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow