She quietly walked through the store
An early twenties' bird
She mumbled that life was a bore
Or maybe a dirtier word
Then, suddenly she saw a purse
A cute brown one, indeed.
Forgotten was her mood and curse
She'd found herself a treat.
I commented, 'What is this craze?
You must have more than ten! '
She looked at me, as in a daze
And answered slowly, then:
'You should know this, now, at your age
The story of three things
That any girl at any stage
Should alter if she swings.
Those three things tantalize at first
But then they soon grow old
They decorate a woman's look
Before their charm gets cold.
They serve their purpose while it lasts
That's known from way back when
These three things, now please don't forget,
Are purses, shoes, and men...'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem