'I am cherry alive,' the little girl sang, / 'Each morning I am something new: / I am apple, I am plum, I am just as excited / As the boys who made the Hallowe'en bang: / I am tree, I am cat, I am blossom too: / When I like, if I like, I can be something new, / Someone very old, a witch in a zoo: / I can be someone else whenver I think who: / And I want to be everything sometimes too: / And the peach has a pit, and I know that too, / And I put it along with everything / To make the grownups laugh whenever I sing: / And I sing: it is true, it is untrue; / I know, I know, the true is untrue, / The peach has a pit, / The pit has a peach: / And both may be wrong / when I sing my song, / But I don't tell the grown-ups: because it is sad, / And I want them to laugh just like I do / Because they grew up and forgot what they knew / And they are sure / I will forget it someday too. / They are wrong. They are wrong. / When I sang my song, I knew, I knew! / I am red, I am gold, / I am green, I am blue, / I will always be me, / I will always be new!'
Delmore Schwartz
Tumbles
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