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
Paura! Di chi ho paura?
Non della Morte - perché chi è Costei?
Il Portiere della casa di mio Padre
Allo stesso modo m'intimidisce!
Della Vita? Sarebbe strano ch'io temessi una cosa
Che è parte integrante di me
In una o due esistenze -
A seconda del caso -

Della Risurrezione? Ha l'Est
Paura di affidare al Mattino
La sua fronte schizzinosa?
Tanto varrebbe ricusare la mia Corona.
Emily Dickinson
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    Scritta da: Silvana Stremiz
    Afraid! Of whom am I afraid?
    Not Death - for who is He?
    The Porter of my Father's Lodge
    As much abasheth me!
    Of Life? 'Twere odd I fear a thing
    That comprehendeth me
    In one or two existences -
    Just as the case may be -

    Of Resurrection? Is the East
    Afraid to trust the Morn
    With her fastidious forehead?
    As soon impeach my Crown.
    Emily Dickinson
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      Scritta da: Silvana Stremiz
      Of nearness to her sundered Things
      The Soul has special times -
      When Dimness - looks the Oddity -
      Distinctness - easy - seems -
      The Shapes we buried, dwell about,
      Familiar, in the Rooms -
      Untarnished by the Sepulchre,
      The Mouldering Playmate comes -

      In just the Jacket that he wore -
      Long buttoned in the Mold
      Since we - old mornings, Children - played -
      Divided - by a world -

      The Grave yields back her Robberies -
      The Years, our pilfered Things -
      Bright Knots of Apparitions
      Salute us, with their wings -

      As we - it were - that perished -
      Themself - had just remained till we rejoin them -
      And 'twas they, and not ourself
      That mourned.
      Emily Dickinson
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        Scritta da: Silvana Stremiz
        The Trees like Tassels - hit - and swung -
        There seemed to rise a Tune
        From Miniature Creatures
        Accompanying the Sun -
        Far Psalteries of Summer -
        Enamoring the Ear
        They never yet did satisfy -
        Remotest - when most fair

        The Sun shone whole at intervals -
        Then Half - then utter hid -
        As if Himself were optional
        And had Estates of Cloud

        Sufficient to enfold Him
        Eternally from view -
        Except it were a whim of His
        To let the Orchards grow -

        A Bird sat careless on the fence -
        One gossipped in the Lane
        On silver matters charmed a Snake
        Just winding round a Stone -

        Bright Flowers slit a Calyx
        And soared upon a Stem
        Like Hindered Flags - Sweet hoisted -
        With Spices - in the Hem -

        'Twas more - I cannot mention -
        How mean - to those that see -
        Vandyke's Delineation
        Of Nature's - Summer Day!
        Emily Dickinson
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          Scritta da: Silvana Stremiz
          The Spider holds a Silver Ball
          In unperceived Hands -
          And dancing softly as He knits
          His Coil of Pearl - unwinds -
          He plies from Nought to Nought -
          In unsubstantial Trade -
          Supplants our Tapestries with His -
          In half the period -

          An Hour to rear supreme
          His Theories of Light -
          Then dangle from the Housewife's Broom -
          His Sophistries - forgot.
          Emily Dickinson
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