SLEEP-STEALER

    WHO stole sleep from baby's eyes？ I must know.

    Clasping her pitcher¹ to her waist mother went to fetch water from the village near by.

    It was noon. The children's playtime was over； the ducks in the pond were silent.

    The shepherd boy lay asleep under the shadow of the banyan² tree.

    The crane stood grave and still in the swamp near the mango grove³.

    In the meanwhile the Sleep-stealer came and, snatching sleep from baby's eyes, flew away.

    When mother came back she found baby travelling the room over on all fours.

    Who stole sleep from our baby's eyes？ I must know. I must find her and chain her up.

    I must look into that dark cave, where, through boulders⁴ and scowling⁵ stones, trickles⁶ a tiny stream.

    I must search in the drowsy⁷ shade of the bakula grove, where pigeons coo in their corner, and fairies' anklets tinkle⁸ in the stillness of starry⁹ nights.

    In the evening I will peep into the whispering silence of the bamboo forest, where fireflies squander¹⁰ their light, and will ask every creature I meet, "Can anybody tell me where the Sleep-stealer lives？"

    Who stole sleep from baby's eyes？ I must know.

    Shouldn't I give her a good lesson if I could only catch her！

    I would raid her nest and see where she hoards¹¹ all her stolen sleep.

    I would plunder¹² it all, and carry it home.

    I would bind¹³ her two wings securely, set her on the bank of the river, and then let her play at fishing with a reed among the rushes and water-lilies.

    When the marketing¹⁴ is over in the evening, and the village children sit in their mothers' laps, then the night birds will mockingly din¹⁵ her ears with：

    "Whose sleep will you steal now？"