A Sad Song About Greenwich Village
Frances Park
She lives in a garret
Up a haunted stair,
And even when she is frightened
There’s nobody to care.
She cooks so small a dinner
She dines on the smell,
And even if she’s hungry
There’s nobody to tell.
She sweeps her musty lodging
As the dawn steal near,
And even when she’s crying
There’s nobody to hear.
I haven’t seen my neighbor
Since a long time ago,
And even if she’s dead
There’s nobody to know.
Ένα ποίημα της Frances Park κι ένα τραγούδι των Beatles ανταμώνουν σ’ ένα «διαφορετικό» μάθημα με θέμα τη μοναξιά και την αποξένωση…
