MY LAST DUCHESS

There she is, the last Duchess:
Tiny, insignificant, powerless.
The one who beat me so often when I was tiny too
When I was ,as she is now ,helpless.
Still looking as if she were alive
Like when she was coming upstairs
Shouting and swearing at me
Just like she usually did when she was going to punch me

The duke? he never knew
And I do not blame him, I can understand.
She was all smiles whenever there was any audience
Oh girl, she smiled, no doubt
Even now when any friend come visiting
They look at her painting with pity: what a kind woman!

Yes! I exclaim energetically,she had a heart – how shall I say?
A mother´s heart !