La poitrinaire ou Le secret de bébé

I've known since fall, a most charming baby,
whose sister, poor dear, is sickly at 15.

When I saw the blonde head, of this graceful elf,
he secretly roamed, the paths of the grand garden.

His chubby little hands, held a string he rolled,
around the withered branches, that sometimes he reached.

'What are you doing there, little man?', the surprised child eyed me,
then smiling, here's how, in a low voice he spoke to me.

'You please me, I will tell you, what my secret is,
if you promise not to laugh, to keep it well for yourself.

First of all, I must tell you that my name is Baby,
that I, it will surprise you, am five since summer.

To play hide and seek, I am all alone now,
for sister is very ill, and the doctor comes often.

This doctor is quite strict, but doesn't seem mean,
however little mother, always cries listening to him.

So I wanted to know what made her cry,
I was maybe curious, sir you will scold me.

Under the table with mystery, yesterday I hid,
the doctor was talking to mother, from there I heard everything.

He said: 'See on the floor, how many leaves already,
when the last one falls, the dear child will go away'.

That's why I tie back the falling leaves,
it's a tough task, say, sir, will you help me