To fling my arms wideIn some place of the sun,To whirl and to danceTill the white day is done.Then rest at cool eveningBeneath a tall treeWhile night comes on gently, Dark like me—That is my dream!
To fling my arms wideIn the face of the sun,Dance! Whirl! Whirl!Till the quick day is done.Rest at pale evening . . .A tall, slim tree . . .Night coming tenderly Black like me.