Christopher Morley (Кристофер Морли)

Six Weeks Old

He is so small, he does not know
The summer sun, the winter snow;
The spring that ebbs and comes again,
All this is far beyond his ken.

A little world he feels and sees:
His mother's arms, his mother's knees;
He hides his face against her breast,
And does not care to learn the rest. 

1. The Church of Unbent Knees
2. Pedometer
3. Ars Dura
4. Washing the Dishes
5. Reading Aloud

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1607

Последние стихотворения

To English version