A LLULABY FOR RASHAMI

You woke up in the middle of night.
Who stole your sleep, my lamb? May I know?
What demons did you, in your slumber fight
That sweat has broken on your lovely brow?
But will you tell me, What has woken you?
The cold of hills or desert’s scorching loo?
Or did you see your favorite golden mare,
Who saw you creeping tip-toe and then bolted?
Or have you seen a worrisome nightmare,
That you were, from your sleep, so rudely jolted?
The fairies and The demons have now vanished,
Somebody, this your mare, shall be caught,
But demons will be killed and mare caught,
You go to sleep, my lamb and worry not.