We're crammed backstage in dressing rooms
The curtain will rise very soon
The show starts at and hour past noon
In our heads we're humming Nutcracker tunes
We all run around and around
Some cries, 'I lost my blush! '
I yell loudly, 'Where's my brush? '
And we won't stop until it's found.
It's intermission; the first act's done
In conversation, we engage
But when it's time to return to the stage
We can only start what we've begun
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem