The Travelling Bear

Grass-blades push up between the cobblestonesAnd catch the sun on their flat sidesShooting it back,Gold and emerald,Into the eyes of passers-by.

And over the cobblestones,Square-footed and heavy,Dances the trained bear.The cobbles cut his feet,And he has a ring in his noseWhich hurts him;But still he dances,For the keeper pricks him with a sharp stick,Under his fur.

Now the crowd gapes and chuckles,And boys and young women shuffle their feet in time to the dancing bear.They see him wobblingAgainst a dust of emerald and gold,And they are greatly delighted.

The legs of the bear shake with fatigueAnd his back aches,And the shining grass-blades dazzle and confuse him.But still he dances,Because of the little, pointed stick.