She’s a little girl aging nine or ten,
Short, serene, slim, with a look luminous;
Obtaining no formal education,
Possessing many a dream glorious;

At sharp five, every morning, her day dawns,
Her dirty sack she takes and off she goes;
Roads, rail tracks, parks, and even private lawns,
What will she get? And where? She never knows;

Parents long unwell and struggling siblings,
She serves them utmost with care abundant;
She collects bottles, pans, old iron strings,
Exchanges and makes a meager amount;

Thus, the little goddess solemnly toils,
Feeds all, sleeps hungry, often, full of smiles.