He brought some little present,
Tucked under his arm of feelings,
But the confusion of the moment
Ripped the present and its details.
Let us hope the safety,
For the heart sank a little,
Cloudy skies smiled a lot,
But our present was useful.
He brought a new present,
Joggled by the wind and moon,
Moods attached had begged for changes
That could not fix.
The third time mattered a lot,
The present was wrapped.
The humdinger indeed.
For the present was unwrapped
And explored by the hands.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem