Day 60: The Frog Prince

Today, another poem, especially for us single people! My brother and his wife have their work cut out for them - she gets precious little sleep and my brother is not allowed to stay overnight, so she has to deal with them alone until he comes in the morning. The twins are of course adorable and my brother has already changed two nappies and is a dab hand at swaddling them and quieting their crying. I held one of them and she looked at me with her blue eyes (all new-born Caucasian European babies have blue eyes, apparently) for several minutes. They are surprisingly unscrunchy, as often premature babies are still wrinkly when taken out before the full nine months.

The Frog Prince

I am a frog
I live under a spell
I live at the bottom
Of a green well

And here I must wait
Until a maiden places me
On her royal pillow
And kisses me
In her father’s palace.

The story is familiar
Everybody knows it well
But do other enchanted people feel as nervous
As I do? The stories do not tell,

Ask if they will be happier
When the changes come
As already they are fairly happy
In a frog’s doom?

I have been a frog now
For a hundred years
And in all this time
I have not shed many tears,

I am happy, I like the life,
Can swim for many a mile
(When I have hopped to the river)
And am for ever agile.

And the quietness,
Yes, I like to be quiet
I am habituated
To a quiet life,

But always when I think these thoughts
As I sit in my well
Another thought comes to me and says:
It is part of the spell

To be happy
To work up contentment
To make much of being a frog
To fear disenchantment

Says, It will be heavenly
To be set free,
Cries, Heavenly the girl who disenchants
And the royal times, heavenly,
And I think it will be.

Come then, royal girl and royal times,
Come quickly,
I can be happy until you come
But I cannot be heavenly,
Only disenchanted people
Can be heavenly.
by Stevie Smith