Mother, your baby is silly!
She is so absolutely childish!
She does not know the difference between
the lights in the streets and the stars.
When we play at eating pebble,
she thinks they are real food, and
tries to put them into her mouth.
When I open a book before her and
ask her to learn her a,b,c, she tears the leaves
with her hand and roars for joy at nothing;
this is your baby’s way of doing her lesson.
When I shake my head at her in anger and scold her
and call her naughty, she laughs and
thinks it great fun.
Everybody know that father is away,
but if in play I call aloud “Father,”
she looks about her in excitement
and thinks that father is near.
When I hold my class with the donkey that our washerman
brings to carry away the clothes and I warn her that
I am the schoolmaster, she will scream
for no reason and call me dada.
Your baby wants to catch the moon.
She is so funny; she calls Ganesh Ganush.
Mother, your baby is silly!
She is so absurdly childish!
(This poem is from ‘The Crescent Moon’ by Tagore)
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