Child, My Child Poem by Daniel Y.
Child, My Child
Two little hands,
two little feet,
two little eyes,
my eyes meet.
Count your toes repeatedly,
surrounded by the eyelid-red,
the cramped stair-closet of a tight ship,
my lovely vessel.
Child, my child.
How will your life be?
With a short breadth
like the crossing of a shallow river?
Your genetic charms
are hardwired into me.
Your bubbly laugh
melts my knees.
Your delicate frame
I worry I’ll break
Your topaz eyes
make the sky wish it were blue
Your tiny mittens curl and lock
around my pinkie.
Thus I become indentured.
My bond.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 7:42:30 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I always look forward to the closing lines of a lyric poem, because they usually sum up the sentiments with a memorable image. And this poem does so in a complex, satisfying way. The image of being indentured to illustrate the bond between a child and parent is amazing - and totally unexpected. You create a space of freedom within the larger space of parental duty. This a fine example of your use of paradox and it makes your argument incontrovertible. I believe that is the word philosophers use to identify a line of reasoning past reproach or refutation. BTW I liked the tone of the poem and the images which seemed to come from a child's view of the world, but that ending swept me away.