poem index


Yosl Grinshpan

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by this poet

Once she was a beauty.
But that was in Sicilia.
Now she is a miner's wife,
mother of a big famiglia.

Once she wrapped her maiden grace
in black lace,
now East-Side poverty
beams from her unadorned face.

The miner, her husband, is giant,
but armless, what use is he at all?
He lost them somewhere in that pit.