duminică, 27 februarie 2011

The doll


Santa Claus brought her

When Maria was a little girl
Many years passed
The doll is even prettier
And Maria is a bride
From a white, silky bed
If mother grew up
They moved to a shopwindow
Near a dog and a bear
She wasn’t pampered anymore
Caressed, combed,
By stories surrounded
Oh! It’s so hard to sit
Unmoved years and years
To see how life just passes by
And in instants it flies above you.
Maria how come your mother
Looks like a grandmother?
To wait a little hand
To pluck you from the shopwindow
And clench you to her chest
To sew you a new skirt
To pull you out a curl or two
To argue for being bad
To beat you if she wants to
But to have a mother too.

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