Rest your drowsy cheek,
My girl, quiet on my
Prickling arm. Dream
Your dream of lapping
Waters cresting on this
Human form. The tides
Are breathing, you and
I, in your small clench
And my tight heart.
Tonight we fill the
Grave with stones and
Slumber in the summer's
Dew. And all I make
Are promises which can
Not come true. I will
Not give you away, my
Girl, I will never make
You cry, nor morning
Find us far apart, nor
This hand gone away
From you.
NOTE: This poem begins with a riff on W H Auden's famous poem of the same name. I wrote it for my newborn daughter in 1984.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I feel like this was also meant for me to read. Considering one of my recent, struck this 1984 babe as so sincere. Was it written when you were younger, i wonder. what i had written as a child - could i do it again, later in life with the same voice. I want to believe i can. take care, Sus