She greets the sun with a smile
She waves it cheerio with a smile
She goes a mile but without her smile
She walks upright with a smile

Do you know?

Her feet have cracks of trodden land
her face drawn hopscotch
she talks with no one in church
no one wants to talk to her (but flies)
Lo, reeks her mouth like a busted sewage-pipe
She is a sty herself, no one stays (but flies)
Flies are her beloved.

Her smile holds her steady
as she works like a donkey
Her beauty lies with her works
whilst their beauty lies on their heads,
Her beauty is in her head:
“You choose to live”

Yonder, she shines bright
Alas, her village shone without her.

Her beauty lies in her hand:
“You reap what you sow”
She told me to reap good fruits.