Quiet in the street,
In the street with houses having babies,
Lately born, lately born.
These babies now are growing,
And the street is quiet now,
At half past six in the afternoon.
Quiet is the street, quiet is the street;
But now, later, a growing baby is crying.
O crying soul, hardly heard,
For you cry not so loud,
O growing, crying baby,
In the quiet, quiet street,
With men, with women, quietly slowly passing,
Who were babies once, who cried once, and who now make men and women and babies cry, and who cry, and who cry now, O but they do.
Quiet street, crying babies,
Sun slowly going down,
Men and women quietly going up and down the quiet street;
Tears, God dear, tears.