A Child Poem by Aishwarya. Ash
A Child
A child's a plaything for an hour;
It's pretty tricks we try
For that or for a longer space--
Then tire, and lay it by.
But I knew one that is itself
All seasons could control;
That could have mock'd the sense of pain
Out of a grieved soul
Thou straggler into loving arms,
Young climber-up of knees,
When I forget thy thousand ways
thenlife and all shell cease.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 8:20:53 AM # 1.0.0.1119
A nice expression about a child.