I was buried deep down in my bedclothes,
When my mother reassured me and said,
'Hush-a-bye, close your eyes, go to sleep now
For no monsters live under your bed.
No ghouls lie poised in the closet
To jump out and give you a start,
The cupboards are empty of goblins
That would feed on your flesh in the dark.
The tippity tap on the window
Of fingers that fills you with dread,
Is simply the patter of raindrops
And not, as you fear, the undead.
The ghostly white glare through the skylight
Is only a Moon so benign,
So hush-a-bye baby to sleep now
And remember you are thirty nine! '
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem