I wonder what those drawers think
When they are left untouched.
I wonder what they think.
Do they ever open and smell the fresh air
That is clad with daisies?
Do they smell the air?
Have they held a baby in their arms
Or seen someone laugh?
Have they held a baby in their arms?
Do they ever cry or bask under the sun?
I wish they could do that.
Do they bask under the sun?
I often think if they remember me,
But they're rather noiseless.
I wonder if they remember me.
Who made them, or are they simply orphans-
And I, the evil mother?
Are they simply orphans?
Were they meant to be a set of drawers,
Or did they choose to be this way?
Were they meant to be a set of drawers?
I love my set of drawers and I'll kiss them
Everyday. Forever. Till the end.
I'll kiss them- a set of drawers, love them.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem