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
I am alive - I guess -
The Branches on my Hand
Are full of Morning Glory -
And at my finger's end -
The Carmine - tingles warm -
And if I hold a Glass
Across my Mouth - it blurs it -
Physician's - proof of Breath -

I am alive - because
I am not in a Room -
The Parlor - Commonly - it is -
So Visitors may come -

And lean - and view it sidewise -
And add "How cold - it grew" -
And "Was it conscious - when it stepped
In Immortality? "

I am alive - because
I do not own a House -
Entitled to myself - precise -
And fitting no one else -

And marked my Girlhood's name -
So Visitors may know
Which Door is mine - and not not mistake -
And try another Key -

How good - to be alive!
How infinite - to be
Alive - two-fold - The Birth I had -
And this - besides, in Thee!
Emily Dickinson
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    Scritta da: Silvana Stremiz
    A Wife - at Daybreak - I shall be -
    Sunrise - Hast Thou a Flag for me?
    At Midnight - I am yet a Maid -
    How short it takes to make it Bride -
    Then - Midnight - I have passed from Thee -
    Unto the East - and Victory.
    Midnight - Good Night - I hear them Call -
    The Angels bustle in the Hall -
    Softly - my Future climbs the Stair -
    I fumble at my Childhood's Prayer -
    So soon to be a Child - no more -
    Eternity - I'm coming - Sir -
    Master - I've seen the Face - before.
    Emily Dickinson
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      Scritta da: Silvana Stremiz
      I know where Wells grow - Droughtless Wells -
      Deep dug - for Summer days -
      Where Mosses go no more away -
      And Pebble - safely plays -
      It's made of Fathoms - and a Belt -
      A Belt of jagged Stone -
      Inlaid with Emerald - half way down -
      And Diamonds - jumbled on -

      It has no Bucket - Were I rich
      A Bucket I would buy -
      I'm often thirsty - but my lips
      Are so high up - You see -

      I read in an Old fashioned Book
      That People "thirst no more" -
      The Wells have Buckets to them there -
      It must mean that - I'm sure -

      Shall We remember Parching - then?
      Those Waters sound so grand -
      I think a little Well - like Mine -
      Dearer to understand.
      Emily Dickinson
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