In the happy times of my early, silly childhood,
Which I cannot speak about or describe,
Mummy used to take me to the bath-house in our neighbourhood,
Where she began to wash me and scrub
I stood there jerking feet and crying loud,
Rubbing my eyes with my fists, and did not see,
How my Mummy's girlfriends, who were around,
Splashed the water at each other and at me.
When I grew a little older from my elder brother
Under the seal of secrecy I learnt
Why Mother didn't go to the bath with father
At my question father laughed a lot
Why there are separate baths and toilets
And above them letters f and m
And my Mummy's girlfriends, and my Mummy's girlfriends
In the bath around me - what fun with them
And one day when Mummy scrubbed her back and was not near
The advices of my elder brother I forgot
And asked the fattest of my Mummy's girlfriends Zina
Why don't you have the thing that I have got
Zina was embarrassed like an innocent girl
Reddened and pronounced 'Oh my God!'
And my Mummy's girlfriends, and my Mummy's girlfriends
In the bath-house laughed at me a lot
Zina ran away from us to the cloakroom
Carrying her own washing cloth with her
She complained to my Mummy, Mummy scolded
And took me to the bath-house no more
I abandoned long ago childish amusements
And I see only dreams till I awake
How my Mummy's girlfriends, how my Mummy's girlfriends
Rub with their wash rags all over my back
How naked daughters of my Mummy's girlfriends
Rub with their wash rags all over my back