Interpretative Dancing
I saw a barefoot lady dip,
And kneel and rise and poise and hover,
As if to pin a pillow slip
Upon the line stretched high above her.
“This must be comedy,” I said,
“Some esoteric highbrow joshing,
This nymph who moves with classic tread
Is hanging out the family washing.”
The program told me I was wrong—
The dance was labeled “Slumber Song.”
I saw a maid with flying feet,
Whose clothes were singularly airy,
Go running through a field of wheat,
With all the fleetness of a fairy.
When I had gazed awhile askance
At her abbreviated habit,
I thought “The title of this dance
Is ‘Girl in Nighty Chasing Rabbit.’”
My guess was wrong—the program said:
“A Russian Peasant’s Prayer for Bread.”
Six damsels, very sparsely clad
In white diaphanous confections,
Came tearing in and ran like mad
In many different directions.
“Aha!” I cried, “I think I get
The meaning of this scene before us;
The title of it, I will bet,
Is ‘Mouse Stampedes a Ziegfeld Chorus.’”
But my conjecture went astray—
The dance was “Woodland Birds in May.”
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