Sestina：A Braid Of Girlhood Dreams Poem by Perdita Young (Hanna Wang)

When I was a girl, a very little girl,
I wished to wear long hair in braid,
To have skirts sewn with golden thread,
Decorated and colorful with pearly beads,
Pretty and charming, like the Uygur maids…
That was the dream of the girlhood Petite.

The dream might stem from some fancy of petite,
Who lived simple and wore simple, as a poor girl.
Perhaps the fairy tales and the fictional maids
Also had a hand: long-haired beauties in braid,
Dancing cheerful in bright necklaces of beads...
But Petite looked a Cinderella, worn to a thread.

Household chores were few at the time, except thread
The needles for grandma, who much loved Petite
For her bright eyes and rosy cheeks, and the beads
She could draw on paper, better than any other girl.
"Ignorance is a girl's virtue, "Grandma would braid
Stories that "clever hands bring bless to all maids."

Grandma told many tales about the tragic maids
With poor manners or poor needlecraft. Her thread
Of thought lengthened and lengthened, to braid
Fiction and facts into a source, fearful for Petite,
Of unhappiness, that might spoil the life of a girl
And make her miserable, counting her lonely beads.

Like the nuns, mute with a string of religious beads,
Secluded, separated and lonely, as lifelong maids,
Remaining poor and sullen, losing the love of a girl
For pretty things, without vigor, cherishing a thread
Of hope for the afterlife bliss… too remote for Petite
To pursue, and less enchanting than a visible braid.

Alas, I used to admire every creature with a kind of braid,
For which I'd been willing to exchange with all my beads.
You could never know the woe of a quiet girl like Petite
When not allowed to live as she dreamt like other maids…
Though such trifles aren't worth the sentiment, my thread
Of thoughts drifted back in time when I was a little girl.