I saw her standing at the traffic light,
shivering in the twilight at the beginning of night.
Thin her clothes was
while quickly cars from both sides did pass
and I was astonished at the placard that she did hold,
as she was not more than sixteen years old
and she was happy, in a jubilant mood
and it was on Christmas day that she begged for food,
as she had a baby boy to support,
licentious remarks were yelled at her for sport
but she looked as innocent and pure
as the virgin Mary did and smiled somewhat demure
when our eyes did meet
and there were sandals on her feet.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
What a great story, Gert. Very nicely rhymed.