Make no mistake, that though he loved them all
And always took his good fortune in stride
(Fortune coming thick or thin, short or tall) ,
One shone a bright eye through high or low tide.
One girl for whom he saved the longest walks,
And made the scrambliest eggs as well,
He did her laundry- pants, undies, shirts and socks-,
Happily, for in one moment he fell.
A wild babe, frustrated and barely born,
Alone, sad, sleepy and stubborn like him,
Was placed in his hands, so calloused and worn.
“Sister, ” he said, “you’re cold, this sheet is thin.”
To all the girls he met, he loved to boast
That e’en despite them all, he loved her most.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem