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Jade is a child, who is eighty years old
Delight, delight shines in her pale eyes.
Laughter is her medicine, she says it keeps her young,
And she never lies.
Bitterness, she has never known, although she has seen
All of life's murderous deceits.
She weeps for the innocent, but is amused by the proud
In all their conceit.
Holding the drunken soldier, in his wild delirium,
She does not to avoid his fetid breath.
Gently she runs her fingers through the smallest child's hair
And fears not death.
Patterns keep on changing, she lives each strident hour
That clangs and rings down all the days.
For love it is everything, this world's many masks
And all its touching ways.
