The Japanese Doll
by Laura Spencer Porter
(Printed in Dolls: An Anthology compiled by Julia A. Robinson, 1938, Albert Whitman & Co., Chicago)

She does not know our language; she is a foreigner;
So all the other dolls and toys they cannot talk with her.
She's quite unlike my French doll--Matilda--and her dress
Is different from Matilda's; her ways are too--and yes,
Her eyes are different, too--not blue--they're pointed and they're black,
They don't close as Matilda's do. She lies there on her back
For hours and hours, and never moves, nor speaks, nor even winks.
She cannot tell me, but I b'lieve she lies and thinks and thinks
About her home in old Japan; about the children there
Who look like her, have eyes like hers, and just such straight black hair.
Maybe she tinks of playmates and companions faraway,
How low and sweet their voices are, how gentle all their play.
I think she sees the cherry trees, a-blooming on the air,
And the purple sweet wistaria a-hanging everywhere.
Across the shallow rivers where the little bridges run,
I think she sees the lotus and the iris in the sun.
Quite often when Matilda takes her nap, then she and I
We set out all the tea things, and we have tea quietly.
She always looks so pleased, and seems to like it so, and then
If I insist she'll always let me fill her cup again.
When she's very quiet, sometimes, I take her little hands
And I just say "Sayonara": and I think she understands.
That is the word in Japanese for "Good-by" but you see
It also means "I'm sorry"--or it means "Since it must be!"
I only once was homesick--for just one day, you know--
But I remember very well how bad it was! and so
I'm very sweet and patient, and I let her sleep at night
By the little brass pagoda,and the lantern and the kite.