Hungarian Woman

Hungarian women with their cigarettes

Leaning out of first story windows, hidden by shutters,

Thinking of their regrets

Hungarian women with their cigarettes

Walking their dogs down the leafy avenue

Spring is lending it a lush green hue

All aboard the yellow white tram,

With the orange seats

The Hungarian woman brings her bull-dog on

With his big white feet

He is like a bull dozer not afraid of anything

Sniffing around like a beagle, standing his ground

Blood hound, blood in his eyes

Hungarian woman cleaning the floor

changing the milk in the coffee machine

Hungarian woman getting up early

Making the sandwiches, chopping tomatoes

Giving us life like Eve with the apple

Giving us something fresh to eat

Then she smokes her cigarette

Hungarian woman with her socks pulled up

In pink

Gawky in the clothes of the charity shop

Walking in the charade

Of the parade

The others wear their Gucci and Armani handbags

And walk on pins down the pavement

I prefer the Hungarian woman

Who smokes her cigarette