When I was twenty inches long,
I could not hear the thrush's song;
The radiance of the morning skies
Was most displeasing to my eyes.
For loving looks, caressing words,
I cared no more than sun or birds;
But I could bite my mother's breast,
And that made up for all the rest.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Who is Barry Cornwall? I have known this poem for yearsas written by Frances Cornford