The Travelling Bear

Grass-blades push up between the cobblestones
And catch the sun on their flat sides
Shooting 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 nose
Which 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 wobbling
Against a dust of emerald and gold,
And they are greatly delighted.

The legs of the bear shake with fatigue,

And his back aches,

And the shining grass-blades dazzle and confuse him.

But still he dances,

Because of the little, pointed stick.