Charlotte Perkins Gilman (Stetson) (Шарлотта Перкинс Гилман (Стетсон))

A Conservative

The garden beds I wandered by  
 One bright and cheerful morn,  
When I found a new-fledged butterfly,  
 A-sitting on a thorn,  
A black and crimson butterfly          
 All doleful and forlorn.  
 
I thought that life could have no sting  
 To infant butterflies,  
So I gazed on this unhappy thing  
 With wonder and surprise.    
While sadly with his waving wing  
 He wiped his weeping eyes.  
 
Said I, "What can the matter be?  
 Why weepest thou so sore?  
With garden fair and sunlight free    
 And flowers in goodly store,"—  
But he only turned away from me  
 And burst into a roar.  
 
Cried he, "My legs are thin and few  
 Where once I had a swarm!    
Soft fuzzy fur—a joy to view—  
 Once kept my body warm,  
Before these flapping wing-things grew,  
 To hamper and deform!"  
 
At that outrageous bug I shot    
 The fury of mine eye;  
Said I, in scorn all burning hot,  
 In rage and anger high,  
"You ignominious idiot!  
 Those wings are made to fly!"    
 
"I do not want to fly," said he,  
 "I only want to squirm!"  
And he drooped his wings dejectedly,  
 But still his voice was firm:  
"I do not want to be a fly!    
 I want to be a worm!  
 
O yesterday of unknown lack  
 To-day of unknown bliss!  
I left my fool in red and black;  
 The last I saw was this,—    
The creature madly climbing back  
 Into his chrysalis.

1. Boys Will Be Boys
2. The Wolf at the Door
3. Wedded Bliss
4. Locked Inside
5. Reassurance

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