Little Gorilla, why do you look so sad? . . .
Are you thinking about the glorious times that you had
In the branchy nest in the boughs were you sat at your ease,
While the painted parrots screamed in the tops of the trees,
And the crocodiles basked in the mud at the river's brink
While the deer on their delicate hoofs tripped down to drink?
Do you think of the heat and the scents and the glare of the sun,
All that was Africa once in the days that are done?
Little Gorilla, is that why you look so sad?
Or have you played some prank on your hairy old dad
Which has had the effect of making him frightfully mad?
Or is it only something to eat that you have had
Of an indigestible kind that is making you bad?
Little Gorilla, tell me why you are looking so sad!