Song of a Factory Girl by Marya Zaturenska
I took this poem to one of our Friday breakfasts. I like it a lot.
Song of a Factory Girl
By Marya Zaturenska
It’s hard to breathe in a tenement hall,
So I ran to the little park,
As a lover runs from a crowded ball
To the moonlit dark.
I drank in clear air as one will
Who is doomed to die,
Wistfully watching from a hill
The unmarred sky.
And the great trees bowed in their gold and red
Till my heart caught flame;
And my soul, that I thought was crushed or dead,
Uttered a name.
I hadn’t called the name of God
For a long time;
But it stirred in me as the seed in sod,
Or a broken rhyme.
