Walking to your place for a love feast
I saw at a street corner
an old beggar woman.
I took her hand,
kissed her delicate cheek,
we talked, she was
the same inside as I am,
from the same kind,
I sensed this instantly
as a dog knows by scent
another dog.
I gave her money.
I could not part from her.
After all, one needs
someone who is close.
And then I no longer knew
why I was walking to your place.
Anna Swir (1909 - 1984) Poland
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