Child Moon
C
Carl Sandburg
0
Altın Yaprak
The child's wonder
At the old moon
Comes back nightly.
She points her finger
To the far silent yellow thing
Shining through the branches
Filtering on the leaves a golden sand,
Crying with her little tongue, “See the moon!”
And in her bed fading to sleep
With babblings of the moon on her little mouth.
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş