Madam Kalla

Madam Kalla was a witch She was tall and slim Lived unnoticed, inch by inch In an old house in Tallinn She lived at Vana-Viru, 10 Nearby the little square Ladies with their gentlemen Stroll around here and there Madam Kalla understood Their language very well Never spoke it, though she could But she didn't want to tell I remember the long table Chandeliers and candle light Bob Sapozhnin’s funny fables After dinner in the night My room at the upper floor Was dark green, a vigil lamp On the chain was hanging low And the air was cold and damp As I went to bed, at 3 Noticed through the ajar door Madam Kalla smiles at me Then she vanished, and I saw Me long after, at the station Waiting for the midnight train Was I going on vacation? Is it me out in the rain? As I took my seat it went Passed the endless vales in snow I felt like a parcel sent To the place I never known Then one sunny winter day I have heard my mother’s cry “Got the tragic news today Madam Kalla died in fire” At the New Year's Eve she lit Candles on her Christmas tree Fell asleep, and that was it Blazed in flames, her soul broke free Bob Sapozhnin got a flat In the outskirts of town He, his wife, and sister Pat Are long dead, as I found out Madam Kalla I remember God knows why, she comes sometimes Smiles at me from her dark chamber There's no sadness in her eyes.