to my baby

A thrush for score plus five suns
had a muted voice with no song
issuing forth from its soul for long
but now filled with happiness in tons!
Oh little lovely singing bird of mine
haven't you found your lost voice?
give rhythm to the everyday noise
Run forth to explore the gold mine!
Enough of the burying in the sand
Enough of hiding in the noman's land
Enough of the stifling of the smiles
Enough of running for endless miles!
Let Coming years fill your cup to the brim
And the joy run for ever over the rim!!!