I give praise to my new sister, this Snow princess,
with strong arms, she walks the corridors with me
She has grown to know this place, this building
of double rooms and hampers filled with dirty linen, her
tools are her hands and mind, yet she is soft as
the pillow she holds, the lambswool she places down
Snow princess, young woman, praise to this woman
and all women that follow her, she moves down the
corridor in stages, knowing, listening, giving, she
does in all in a span of time she must complete
She lifts the filled plastic bags from the pails,
and hurls them unto the next pile, and then
she is not stopping for herself, down the hall
a cry, a laugh, she looks closely for a reason,
the woman resting in the out of room chair,
the man wanting to just have the plastic urinal
Snow princess does it all, yet, she keeps going. I want
to give her praise for what she does, and I look
up at the clock on the wall and she is doing
her last rounds, this Snow princess, her
followers are all snug in their beds for the night.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem