“What woman is this?” Viktoria Vakser, ‘26
What woman is this? If I look in the glass
I spy no one deserving of such name.
I know my fiery eyes are yet aflame
With some unbridled passion. If— alas!—
If woman be meek, my obstinance outweighs
Any vain fancies that I might be so;
If she be graceful— I’ve yet to outgrow
The carelessness of my impatient ways.
What woman? Nay, I see naught but a child
Who equally gives way to joy and tears;
Whose wisdom gathered o’er her sixteen years
Makes her, at best, half gentle and half wild…
But ne’er there was a girl so fain to learn,
And mend her ways, and thereby Woman earn.