---

Through the narrow clearing of an alley
My songs squeeze through
Raised to the altar
I wade in roses like in grass
Blue blends with yellow

Children's smiles tear the silence
And the acclaimed Mary
Runs after me, uplifted

Sometimes I'm like a great king
Who drowns his charms in sequins
Before his people following him
He peeps at the rude mob

I am walking slowly in majesty
The old bones crackle behind me
Their journey almost done
They bow their heads before the Glorified one
A host of youngsters is also rushing here
It's more of a picnic for them
They grab the girls' long dresses
To look into the sinful slit

And trailing behind, many families
Tread proudly and dutifully
Shoulder to shoulder as if on a Sunday
In robes beautiful and fragrant

And so I think in my meditation
Do they already know about fondness
For these youngest beautiful voices
For the hair entwined with fingers

I glance at them so surreptitiously
I see pride and faith in their gestures
They squint at the brightness
They'll never believe in meanness
They believe in faith, not gossip

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