Little Brothers of Gavroche

Hristo Smirnenski


City so loud and lewd,
Conceived in spite,
In vain your crowded streets
Blaze festive bright.
For through the violet dusk
Poor children go,
With outraged innocence
Thin faces glow.
Child victims of deceit,
Life crooks their backs,
They loiter in your streets
In cast-off caps.
At every dazzling pane
They form a ring,
But in their eyes what pain
And suffering!
They sigh and go their way,
Ragged and tired,
Past windows that display
What they desireā€¦