Your little face;
Like a flower in the morning;
You might recognise me from afar;
When I see you,
as hiding your head in the lap of the mother;
That time I miss my mother;
Your Half hidden small cute face;
Looks like a bear toy;
When I show you my hands
You do intriguing!
When you take your little hand in mouth;
I scold you;
But still give you smile!
When I teach you to speak;
You tend to be quiet;
But I love your lisping voice!
- Sujit
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Children are the fathers of men, so said. thanks. I love it. Let he terrorists know it. But they are not men they are demon. thanks.