Piececitos de niño,
azulosos de frío,
¡cómo os ven y no os cubren,
Dios mío!
¡Piececitos heridos
por los guijarros todos,
ultrajados de nieves
y lodos!
El hombre ciego ignora
que por donde pasáis,
una flor de luz viva
dejaís;
que allí donde ponéis
la plantita sangrante,
el nardo nace más
fragrante.
Sed, puesto que macháis
por los caminos rectos,
heróicos como sois
perfectos.
Piececitos de niño,
dos joyitas sufrientes,
¡cómo pasan sin veros
las gentes!
Little feet of children
blue with cold,
how can they see you and not cover you—
dear God!
Little wounded feet
cut by every stone,
hurt by snow
and mire.
Man, blind, does not know
that where you pass,
you leave a flower
of living light.
And where you set
your little bleeding foot,
the spikenard blooms
more fragrant.
Walking straight paths,
be heroic, little feet,
as you are
perfect.
Little feet of children,
two tiny suffering jewels,
how can people pass
and not see you!
Gabriela Mistral, "Piececitos/Little Feet," trans. Doris Dana, from Selected Poems of Gabriela Mistral (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 1971). Copyright © 1961, 1964, 1970, 1971 by Doris Dana. Used with the permission of Joan Daves Agency. All rights reserved.