There's nothing ever
Moves me more
Than the tears
Of some infant small.
And I cry myself
Each time I hear
The cry of one at all!
Like little pearls
I've watched them run
Upon a pixie face
If only Mother's day
Be done
Without some tear to trace.
I'm sure there'd be
More happy smiles
And laughter in the air;
And none like these
When crying tears
Are on her children there!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem