Poesie di Emily Dickinson

Poetessa, nato venerdì 10 dicembre 1830 a Amherst, Massachusetts (Stati Uniti d'America), morto sabato 15 maggio 1886 a Amherst, Massachusetts (Stati Uniti d'America)
Questo autore lo trovi anche in Frasi & Aforismi e in Proverbi.

Scritta da: Silvana Stremiz
Dying! Dying in the night!
Wont somebody bring the light
So I can see which way to go
Into the everlasting snow?
And "Jesus"! Where is Jesus gone?
They said that Jesus - always came -
Perhaps he doesn't know the House -
This way, Jesus, Let him pass!

Somebody run to the great gate
And see if Dollie's coming! Wait!
I hear her feet upon the stair!
Death wont hurt - now Dollie's here!
Emily Dickinson
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    Scritta da: Silvana Stremiz
    Musicians wrestle everywhere -
    All day - among the crowded air
    I hear the silver strife -
    And - waking - long before the morn -
    Such transport breaks upon the town
    I think it that "New life"!
    It is not Bird - it has no nest -
    Nor "Band" - in brass and scarlet - drest -
    Nor Tamborin - nor Man -
    It is not Hymn from pulpit read -
    The "Morning Stars" the Treble led
    On Time's first afternoon!

    Some - say - it is "the Spheres" - at play!
    Some say - that bright Majority
    Of vanished Dames - and Men!
    Some - think it service in the place
    Where we - with late - celestial face -
    Please God - shall ascertain.
    Emily Dickinson
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      Scritta da: Silvana Stremiz
      A something in a summer's Day
      As slow her flambeaux burn away
      Which solemnizes me.
      A something in a summer's noon -
      A depth - an Azure - a perfume -
      Transcending extasy.

      And still within a summer's night
      A something so transporting bright
      I clap my hands to see -

      Then vail my too inspecting face
      Lest such a subtle - shimmering grace
      Flutter too far for me -

      The wizard fingers never rest -
      The purple brook within the breast
      Still chafes it's narrow bed -

      Still rears the East her amber Flag -
      Guides still the sun along the Crag
      His Caravan of Red -

      So looking on - the night - the morn
      Conclude the wonder gay -
      And I meet, coming thro' the dews
      Another summer's Day!
      Emily Dickinson
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