Gabriela Mistral

those who do not dance

A crippled child said: “How shall I dance?” Let your heart dance - we said. Then the invalid said: “How shall I sing?” Let your heart sing - we said. Then spoke the poor dead thistle, But I, how shall I dance?” Let your heart fly to the wind - we said. Then God spoke from above “How shall I descend from the blue?” Come dance for us here in the light - we said. All the valley is dancing together under the sun, and the heart of him who joins us not is turned to dust, to dust.

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