Cur lacrimare, ancilla&;#063;*

Why are you crying, slave girl?

Is it the shackles they put around your wrists?

Is it the master who whips you?

Is it the other girls,

Pointing and whispering?

Why are you crying, slave girl?

The bulge of your belly is a hinderance,

But surely you can still sing

And look pretty

You stola is loose

It covers you well

You can hardly tell

What has happened to you.

Why are you crying, slave girl?

Is it because you are out on the streets?

Is it the begger men

Who whistle

And look knowingly at you

While you struggle to get through
another day?

Why are you crying, slave girl?

Is it the corpse on the ground in front of you
That thing

Yes, it is a part of you

Too bad it didn't live

Going to heaven?

Who knows what happens to the souls of

Illigitimate slave children...

Why are you crying, slave girl?

Is it your torn and dirty stola

Dragging in the dirt?

Is it the sight of your former master

Staring right through you

He doesn't know you any more

He has purposely forgotton you

Easy

A shamed slave girl

Is easily put from mind

But do you see that colour?

That mild pink that jetted across the

Pasty skin of his cheeks?

No

He hasn't forgotton

The most beautiful slave girl he ever had

And regretting throwing her away

Why aren't you crying, slave girl?

Is it the strapping young lad beside you

Your son

A bonny boy

With raven-black hair?

Is it the kind master?

Is it the knowledge that the bad dreams are over?

He still blushes when he sees you in town

But you hardly have to go on errands for this new master

You work in the kitchen

Doing what you've wanted to do

Your little boy delights the guests

Use him to your advantage

You won't have him for long.

But before that dreaded day

That they take him

You can enjoy him to the full

And enjoy your new life

Be joyful

That the gods smiled

On a lowly slave girl

And that that girl

Was you