Uncategorized

Being Danish, HC Anderson is like a cultural thing for me. I found this poem and couldn't help thinking about all the cherubs in heaven.



The Dying Child

By Hans Christian Andersen.

Mother, I'm tired, and I would fain be sleeping;
Let me repose upon thy bosom sick;
But promise me that thou wilt leave off weeping,
Because thy tears fall hot upon my cheek.

Here it is cold: the tempest raveth madly; ...