Tuesday, October 19, 2004

dance, dance, dance till you drop.

The desires of the heart are as crooked as corkscrews,
Not to be born is the best for man;
The second best is a formal order,
The dance's pattern; dance while you can.

Dance, dance, for the figure is easy,
The tune is catching and will not stop;
Dance till the stars come down from the rafters;
Dance, dance, dance till you drop.

[from Death's Echo by W.H. Auden]

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