I read the greatest ill of all is loneliness. I wonder if that's a lie. For human heads keep hovering around me Like hordes of buzzing flies. Yet, who'll help cure me of my distress? My castle-home beckons me near It's shiny gloom I crave Upon it's cosy, warmed-up bed I dream of being brave. And for the unfortunate, I murmur a silent prayer. I see a young girl everyday Toiling in our gardens below She waves to me when she glances up As I peek from a turret window. "What's your name?" she mouths, somehow I dare not say. In many ways, she seems like me But not from what she does. She runs barefoot on the greyish earth And plays with blades of grass. Oh, she hums a song about being free. Free? How strange, for she is not She is one of the family maids She would not know her p's and q's Neither poise nor grace. And she doesn't even care to faint when the sun's so very hot! I've been told that I am free, and one day will rule my land But nanny gently chided me when I played in the golden sand. I'm not allowed to befriend her---- that poiseless garden-girl, Instead, I learn my French all day, or play with mama's pearls. She is like the wind I think, all fearless, wild and free I wish that garden-girl were I, that garden-girl were me!
