All through the day at my machine <br />There still keeps going <br />A strange little tune through heart and head <br />As I sit sewing: <br />'There is a child in Hungary, <br />A child I love in Hungary' <br />The words come flowing. <br />When I am walking home at night <br />That song comes after, <br />And under the trees in holiday time <br />Or hearing laughter: <br />'I have a son in Hungary, <br />My little son in Hungary' <br />Comes following after.<br /><br />Lesbia Harford<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/all-through-the-day-at-my-machine/
