I love it while
it sleeps- smiling
wet with tea;
dreaming dormouse
dreams.
I tickle its
downy fur, and
it laughs and
moans softly.
I want to put it in
my pocket and
carry it everywhere;
take it out on
lonely autumn nights and
play with her until
she's exhausted,
relaxed and rested,
content and lost in
my hands and
heart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem