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Kupite, buy the cigarettes!
They're dry, the rain did not get to them.
The night is cold, and all around is dark;
A boy stands there and looks around;
Only a wall protects him from the rain.
In his hand is a little tray,
And his eyes beckon everyone who goes by.
I no longer have the strength left To walk about the streets;
I'm hungry, disheveled and wet from the rain.
I shlep around from the day's beginning;
Nobody wants to do business with me.
They all laugh and make fun of me
Come buy some cigarettes!
They're dry, the rain did not get to them.
They're real cheap, it's true;
Buy them and have pity on me;
Save me from hunger...
Come buy these matches, the best of any,
And you'll help a poor orphan.
Forgive me my shouting and rambling;
Nobody buys anything from me,
And so I'll perish like a dog.
I had a little sister, a child of nature she was;
We were always together, traveling for a whole year.
With her I was happy, and when I could look at her,
It was easier to bear hunger and my troubles.
Then she grew weak and ill
And she died in my arms on a street bench.
When I lost her, I lost everything
Come buy some cigarettes!
They're dry, the rain did not get to them.
They're real cheap, it's true;
Buy them and have pity on me;
Save me from hunger...