My bearing’s not imposing,
A hut is my abode,
My vigilance is dozing,
My island is remote.
I live from hand to mouth,
But so strong I feel:
I’ll burn my little house
To heat a stranger's meal.
But if не leaves forever,
And never to be seen,
I’ll go on as ever,
As if he's never been.
I'll go on- no danger:
The wounded heart I’ll heal
Before another stranger
Turns up and asks for meal.
