Every age has sadnesses of its own
Who knows why this small child in her endless hysterical crying
Cannot be soothed by love and attention and kindness?
The crying only ends in sleep
The child's nightmare perhaps continues in an unknown place
Or perhaps is truly at rest for now.
May the morning bring her freshness and light
And a new happy world
With less difficult and unforgiving sadnesses.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem