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Through the narrow clearing of an alley

My songs squeeze through

Raised to the altar

I wade in roses like in grass

Blue blends with yellow

Children's smiles tear the silence

And the acclaimed Mary

Runs after me, uplifted

Sometimes I'm like a great king

Who drowns his charms in sequins

Before his people following him

He peeps at the rude mob

I am walking slowly in majesty

The old bones crackle behind me

Their journey almost done

They bow their heads before the Glorified one

A host of youngsters is also rushing here

It's more of a picnic for them

They grab the girls' long dresses

To look into the sinful slit

And trailing behind, many families

Tread proudly and dutifully

Shoulder to shoulder as if on a Sunday

In robes beautiful and fragrant

And so I think in my meditation

Do they already know about fondness

For these youngest beautiful voices

For the hair entwined with fingers

I glance at them so surreptitiously

I see pride and faith in their gestures

They squint at the brightness

They'll never believe in meanness

They believe in faith, not gossip