Chorus

I tell myself, “Dzhemil, take your time.”

I answer, “I am here; this day is mine.”

One little step, then one step more,

I know the way I know the floor.

Verse 1

The morning asks me what I want to do.

I say, “I’ll mend the strap; I’ll see it through.”

My fingers miss the buckle once or twice,

I start again; I don’t need your advice.

Verse 2

At supper I can hear the cousins talk,

I catch a joke and laugh before they stop.

Some words run past me; some stay in my head.

I hum the tune I heard beside the shed.

Chorus

I tell myself, “Dzhemil, take your time.”