Here you will find thePoemAll Through The Day At My Machineof poet Lesbia Harford
All through the day at my machine There still keeps going A strange little tune through heart and head As I sit sewing: 'There is a child in Hungary, A child I love in Hungary' The words come flowing. When I am walking home at night That song comes after, And under the trees in holiday time Or hearing laughter: 'I have a son in Hungary, My little son in Hungary' Comes following after.
