New-born poet's fancies!
To a few, favoured!
What for a close, cloud-enswathed
Lyre-played fawning
Imprints, for its leavetaking;
Heaven's, Earth-poured;
This 'kisses for blessing';
Pink cheeks now confide.
The telltale hallmarks of such
Pre-natal esteem.
Transferred to kin, as keen.
Crib, curtained, beside.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem