When I was twenty inches long,
I could not hear the thrush's song;
The radiance of the morning skies
Was most displeasing to my eyes.
For loving looks, caressing words,
I cared no more than sun or birds;
But I could bite my mother's breast,
And that made up for all the rest.
Ouch! ! ! ! Well-written! Enjoyed the poem immensely once I got that biting image out of my head.
Nicely written poem, a song heard by the baby...10
Extremely riveting poem that seems to portray a baby's emotions truthfully. Thanks.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem
Such a sweet, descriptive little poem.