THE LAUGHTER OF LITTLE BABIES
Thelaughter of little babiesWho chuckle and crowIs the laugh of a streamWhich needs must flowInto black caverns; on its wayReflecting briefly the blue of day.The mirth of little babiesWho chuckle and nodIs the mirth of a spiritRemembering oddScraps of the tales and heavenly mirthHe shall never remember again on Earth.
Thelaughter of little babiesWho chuckle and crowIs the laugh of a streamWhich needs must flowInto black caverns; on its wayReflecting briefly the blue of day.The mirth of little babiesWho chuckle and nodIs the mirth of a spiritRemembering oddScraps of the tales and heavenly mirthHe shall never remember again on Earth.
Thelaughter of little babiesWho chuckle and crowIs the laugh of a streamWhich needs must flowInto black caverns; on its wayReflecting briefly the blue of day.
Thelaughter of little babies
Who chuckle and crow
Is the laugh of a stream
Which needs must flow
Into black caverns; on its way
Reflecting briefly the blue of day.
The mirth of little babiesWho chuckle and nodIs the mirth of a spiritRemembering oddScraps of the tales and heavenly mirthHe shall never remember again on Earth.
The mirth of little babies
Who chuckle and nod
Is the mirth of a spirit
Remembering odd
Scraps of the tales and heavenly mirth
He shall never remember again on Earth.