Behind a few dark naughty streaks,
a sparkle shines from her black eye.
She looks at me and her smile leaks—
in just a second she comes by.

She wants hugs, kisses, wants to dance,
and she wants everything “her way”.
Then she discovers something else…
One moment here, next—she’s away!

All of a sudden, clouds of war
covered her with a mighty blur…
Each day I’m scared, terrified more:
God, what might have happened to her?

The long, exhausting time’s gone by,
only a few black clouds still thrive…
Her voice becomes tense, like a cry
as she speaks: “Yes, we are alive…”

I listen but all I can see
is an image of her I knew.
Rudely, it is taken from me—
what appears now is something new…

Where’s that little kitten of mine?
Where’s now that sparkle in her eye?
Her childhood has been killed… A line
that makes me only cry and cry…

Now, I want to ask what I must
all people there and worldwide:
What will ever become of us
as we didn’t let her be a child…

Dragana Konstantinovic
Translated by the author
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