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It would have starved a Gnat—
To live so small as I—
And yet I was a living Child—
With Food's necessity
Upon me—like a Claw—
I could no more remove
Than I could coax a Leech away—
Or make a Dragon—move—
Not like the Gnat—had I—
The privilege to fly
And seek a Dinner for myself—
How mightier He—than I—
Nor like Himself—the Art
Upon the Window Pane
To gad my little Being out—
And not begin—again—
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem