A child’s tiny feet,
Blue, blue with cold,
How can they see and not protect you?
Oh, my God!
Tiny wounded feet,
Bruised all over by pebbles,
Abused by snow and soil!
Man, being blind, ignores
that where you step, you leave
A blossom of bright light,
that where you have placed
your bleeding little soles
a redolent tuberose grows.
Since, however, you walk
through the streets so straight,
you are courageous, without fault.
Child’s tiny feet,
Two suffering little gems,
How can the people pass, unseeing.
- Gabriela Mistral
- Translated by Mary Gallwey
it is not really surprising how the writer, gabriela mistral, saw the suffering of children… she has been teaching them… and she even adopted one but unluckily, died…
indeed, in her words… the love of a mother is enculcated… and if only she has been given chance to have one… that child could have been so lucky… f