An Average Girl

I'll tell you about a girl.
She, the fairy tale, is not the happiest.
But I already know…believe me, it's true
that even in sadness, a tear holds meaning...

The girl is a little old,
to call her a woman—it doesn't quite fit.
Because when no one is watching her,
she is still running wild with the clouds.

In the rain, even the umbrella stays shut.
In the cold, she refuses gloves.
She will smile kindly at the vagrant.
And she will watch the wet sparrows.

Sometimes she's terribly tired...
Most of all from herself. And from everything.
She can never manage to grow up.
Maturity sits strange on her.

Life lessons, she does not learn.
But she can recite to you lovely lines.
She'll always flood you with questions,
her paths...aren't white.

And you will always be tested with her, as
she simply does not forgive betrayals.
She has a gift and carries it inside herself.
To give away. And to be given away…

If you ever meet her, tell her
that clouds are infinitely important!
Or don't say anything, just hold her.
Every great thing—it comes wet from the rain.