You bounce on my knee,
ever so slightly.
Your Mommy reaches down
ten inches from your face,
in Spanish says,
'¿Que haces mi, bon bon? '
Like some animated cartoon cat
you meow a high-pitched baby cackle
and then again and again,
'ah-kah-ah-kah. ooh, gooh, ga-ka.'
One day I will try to tell of this
tiny rapture of my heart—
of you and your bubbling,
budding sounds,
But in truth,
words are but the pretense
of moments and memory.
So, I saved it here
in the petrified
wood of poetry.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem