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The First Sorrow of the Child By Andreas Munch, circa 1855 Translated from Danish/Norwegian by Jennie and operafantomets, Uncovered by falluke-elskeren, circa 2006 Little Lotte thought of everything and nothing Like a butterfly she flew about in the gold of the sun In her golden curls she the wore the crown of spring And her gaze was the like the heavens, so bright blue and clearShe wheedled her mother and was true to her doll She looked at her clothes and her red shoes But above them all she loved a little bird Which her father had captured on the snow last ChristmasIt sat by the window, freezing, in the winter's cold and wind And pleadin...