Lena, you steal grapes from Arabs
Lena, you kiss the darkest boys
She weeps in his red armchair
She sobs on the black and white tile
His finches are yellow, excitable
Yet they die in his house, they die too
Don’t touch her cold feathers, Lena
Don’t kiss your mother’s arms
When her father buys more finches
Lena tends the cage
Lena, you are crying
Lena, let me sweep here
Lena looks for yellow leaves
Under his cold bed