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
Dont put up my Thread & Needle -
I'll begin to Sow
When the Birds begin to whistle -
Better stitches - so -
These were bent - my sight got crooked -
When my mind - is plain
I'll do seams - a Queen's endeavor
Would not blush to own -

Hems - too fine for Lady's tracing
To the sightless Knot -
Tucks - of dainty interspersion -
Like a dotted Dot -

Leave my Needle in the furrow -
Where I put it down -
I can make the zigzag stitches
Straight - when I am strong -

Till then - dreaming I am sowing
Fetch the seam I missed -
Closer - so I - at my sleeping -
Still surmise I stitch.
Emily Dickinson
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    Scritta da: Silvana Stremiz
    I rose - because He sank -
    I thought it would be opposite -
    But when his power bent -
    My Soul grew straight.
    I cheered my fainting Prince -
    I sang firm - even - Chants -
    I helped his Film - with Hymn -

    And when the Dews drew off
    That held his Forehead stiff -
    I gave him -
    Balm - for Balm -

    I told him Best - must pass
    Through this low Arch of Flesh -
    No Casque so brave
    It spurn the Grave -

    I told him Worlds I knew
    Where Emperors grew -
    Who recollected us
    If we were true -

    And so with Thews of Hymn -
    And Sinew from within -
    And ways I knew not that I knew - till then -
    I lifted Him.
    Emily Dickinson
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      Scritta da: Silvana Stremiz
      Our journey had advanced -
      Our feet were almost come
      To that odd Fork in Being's Road -
      Eternity - by Term -
      Our pace took sudden awe -
      Our feet - reluctant - led -
      Before - were Cities - but Between -
      The Forest of the Dead -

      Retreat - was out of Hope -
      Behind - a Sealed Route -
      Eternity's Cool Flag - in front -
      And God - at every Gate.
      Emily Dickinson
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        Scritta da: Silvana Stremiz
        In falling Timbers buried -
        There breathed a Man -
        Outside - the Spades - were plying -
        The Lungs - within -
        Could He - know - they sought Him -
        Could They - know - He breathed -
        Horrid Sand Partition -
        Neither - could be heard -

        Never slacked the Diggers -
        But when Spades had done -
        Oh, Reward of Anguish,
        It was dying - Then.
        Emily Dickinson
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