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.
Gabriela MistralAbout author
- Author's profession: Poet
- Nationality: chilean
- Born: April 7, 1889
- Died: January 10, 1957
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