A baby dies at birth, or within days,
Such a sorrow!
Who has the strength to bear it?
That is why we stand with the parents,
Holding them up with all our arms, shoulders, hearts.
How can we stand to part
with this pink cherub, this piece of heaven?
Burial is more a planting of our hopes
More than an interment.
Like the chubby bulbs of tulips
We know with certainty
They will rise with a flourish
Of intense color,
Even if only for God to see.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Burial is more a planting of our hopes More than an interment. Like the chubby bulbs of tulips We know with certainty They will rise with a flourish Of intense color, Even if only for God to see.......it is so painful and leaves lasting impression on mind.. so sad when we bury the infant. i witnessed for my grand daughter. i could not stop my tears... so touchy your poems dear.....10 read mien bidding farewell...pulled from deep sleep...welcome