Baby lies so fast asleep
that I dare not take her
into my arms,
too big the chance to wake her.
Rosy cheeks and a raspberry mouth
like a little angel, a sweet delight
but she’s someone else’s.
Sometimes at night
nothing can cuddle her tears away
and a shrill little voice
hangs in the air, piercing the darkness
cutting right until day
and those are the times
that mothers and fathers do pray.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem