THE LOCUST TREES

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THE locust trees,

See how they grow!

Here in their shade

We will have a show.

Other people's children

All have come,

But my little girl

Is still at home.

Just as I speak,

She is coming along,

Riding a donkey

And singing a song.

Her parasol open

She holds in her hand,

Her hair is done up

In a neat little band.


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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