My Sweet Child
How is it that your face is so fragile?
How is it that your hands are so tender?
How do you walk so simply?
And how do you sleep so deeply?
You are my child,
My sweet child.
I cradled you in my arms.
I walked beside you when you walked.
I wonder how it is to be so pure,
In spite of the world's allure.
Your purity strikes me as rare.
The world should for this prepare.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem