soon you will stand
and blot out
the moon
with your hand
an orange
or an apple
or a football
as you grow
often looking
to see the man
as you age
when you
venture into
the night
it will be
your friend
eventually
you will
introduce
the man
to your child
oh never
lose that magic
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem