So young in so many ways
the very first of the dew
on a hot summer's day
quick to move on
no time to linger or play
first step were wobbly
first to go ahead and run
first fingers to cup
the first running blood
first scraped knee
cause the first tears
from small young eyes
seeing for the first time
how the first thing does
and the last thing last
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem