A Bailarina

One, two, three and four,
I bend my leg and jump,
I turn and twist upside down
and if I fall, I count to ten.

Then, this babble
All starts over.
Gosh, oh my!
I live on tiptoes.

When I'm a child
I become the family's pride:
I spin on half pointe
On my ballet shoe.

When I'm a toy
They keep winding me up.
If the string doesn't end
I won't stop dancing.

Without wanting to show off
I know how to do a split.
And for a good jump to happen
I bend down in a demi plié.

Suddenly I feel
A sense of pride
If instead of a dive
I jump in the air in a grand jeté.

When I'm on stage
Among shining lights,
I feel like a bird
Flying, flying, flying.

Every ballerina will carry through life
Her sweet fate of dancing, dancing, dancing...