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
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem