Oh, birthday day,
I came out without,
A cone shaped hat,
And without any,
Birthday cake.
I remember how I sat,
In the cradle of my birth,
Or was it just a remembrance,
Of what I had read,
About the day of your birth?
It seems like the yelling,
And the shivering,
And hugs mom gave,
Was the first true,
Birthday of your life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem