Hush my little child, sleep well,
Another bird fell off the branch.
Autumn's rust came as a storm,
On the fierce battlefield demons stroll,
And your daddy isn't home.
Sleep well, sleep my child,
For your father keeps you safe.
May fire burn and lightning strike,
Those who took your father away,
Away, far away, he is gone.
Who is going to tell you stories from now on?
Who will carry you on the back,
Who will ever laugh when you fell over,
And lovingly hug you ?
But fear not my sweet child,
Sleep well, adventure in the dream land.
Hush, you silky child hands,
That nervously twitch and twists.
Fear not my little child, grow,
Your father and ancestors to avenge.
Inspired by Radu Gyr works.
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139,372 Literary Works • 672,541 Reviews
I really like what you wrote here. The lack of in depth details in this case gives just enough information to allow the reader to see what you are thinking and also allows for the reader to add to your own thoughts.
I think it has very good flow to it and it all goes together very nicely. It has a lot of different emotions involved which is a very nice touch to it, making it all the more meaningful and deeper.
Hello Buranko!
First of all, I would like to say I really enjoyed your poem. it is so sadly poetic to have a father who is far away from their child, but still longing for their best interests. I must say, I do feel as if your poem goes back and forth with the tone a little too much. At first, it seems as if the child should have hope.
"Sleep well, sleep my child,
For your father keeps you safe."
These lines make it seem as if the Father is still there. A common question that most readers will probably have is: Where is the father? If I were you, I would go into more detail about the situation, a little context never hurt anyone. For example. Is the father dead since fire and lightning took him away? Do fire and lightning allude to war? Will the father ever return?
Here is where I sensed your shift.
"But fear not my sweet child,
Sleep well, adventure in the dream land."
Who is speaking to the child? Is it the mother? Or is the father talking in third person?
As a person sending you a review, I do like your structure. Your stanzas and lines are short, sweet, and to the point. I feel like with a little revision and a bit more context that you can greatly improve this work!
I hope you have a wonderful day!
-Anne
I don't agree with giving more context. Not in this work. This unknown is what gives the poem this sad, nostalgic, mysterious feel and it is what I am trying to achieve.
Hi, Buranko! I'm back with another review! This was such a cool little world you created in this poem, and the tone gave my "Bye Baby Bunting" vibes with the father being gone and this maternally-perceived character giving the child comfort (though that turns into something darker later, which I thought was very skillfully done). I especially loved your first stanza with the image of a bird blown from a branch and the "autumn's rust" coming as a storm. I don't know who Radu Gyr is, but I'll definitely check them out now!
For critiques, I'd say that there's a bit of back and forth about whether the child should have hope or not. In the second stanza, you say that the father will keep the child safe, then confirm in two lines of the same stanza that he's gone, so there's no way he can keep the child safe to my knowledge. The contradiction in that stanza is especially emphasized by the third stanza, in which the speaker basically tells the child that there's no one to comfort them. Maybe that's all intentional and I'm grasping at straws, but I thought I'd bring it to your attention just in case.
The last critique I have is that the final stanza's first and second lines don't make much sense. I can't really expand on that ; there seem to be a few typos there.
Overall, this was a great poem! I loved how it kept the illusion of childhood but grew into something that resembles lots of anti-hero and villains' backstories. Great job, my friend!
Happy writing and happy RevMo!
Best,
RavenLord
Thank you your highness
Oh Radu Gyr is a romanian poet, that wrote in prison during communism. There was a ban on anything that promoted own choices and beliefs, poetry was banned too. His poems healed the souls of other inmates near him. But guess how were they transmited. By morse code. They hit the walls and that's how his poems became spread
That's so cool. That's wildly cool, actually.
Ikr, our country was really harmed during that time, every one that was hella smart and good at what he is doing was imprisoned. That is why those inmates were sooo smart and remembered poems transmited in morse to later publish them. I have nothing but mad respect to them
Same here. Thank you for this education, Buranko!
This will be a short review because I'm in a rush, but I'll try to be as helpful as I can!
Is this from or based on a specific thing? At times, I thought it was a sweet lullaby but when I got to "On the fierce battlefield demons stroll", "May fire burn and lightning strike, Those who took your father away", and "Your father and ancestors to avenge", I began to realize this wasn't quite that. I did see it was inspired by Radu Gyr works, but not knowing what that is, I have no idea if it's from a character's life.
As for mistakes, I only saw one.
I don't think you meant to put a space between 'you' and the question mark.
And my favorite part? Definitely this one!
I like that it mentions that father is keeping is child safe as wells as the fact that he isn't here. Is this supposed to mean that he is watching them from the grave, because if so, I think that was sweet and stated well.
Overall, I thought this was a nice piece, and even if you didn't intend it as a part in a story, I think that it would fit perfectly!
The original poem talks about a dad being imprisoned unfairly, due to communism. I liked the idea, and felt that I should try to transform it into a poem about a father that has yet to return from the battlefield.
I said that his father keeps him safe because in my opinion what drives a man to fight is not an order or a desire but the will to protect his family.
I think commas are used a bit too much, and there is like literally one spelling error involving "you" to "your" in the fifth stanza. Nonetheless, I like the concept of the poem... good job!
No, it's not your, it is you. The persona is talking to the child, but holds his hands and kinda talks to them