Little Kewpie Doll in his mother’s arms, little
body square, gurgling as he looks at me, only
six months old I’m told, adorable as can be
I’m enchanted by small babies, more beautiful
than elves and fairies, I’m smitten by this last
one, holding him and stroking
His downy, satin-soft hair a heavenly sensation,
even more enchanting to watch his rapturous
elation while he consumed his bottle of milk
He watched his mother trustingly in complete de-
light, his little world a paradise of baby needs
fulfilled, would that we could have
Babies that remain in this enchanting stage for
a complete age, never growing up to just be-
come another human being, all messed up
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
truly a delightful piece and the prayer at the end is one that emanates from the heart of every parent who sees and fears the ugliness of todays world