Poesia di Emily Dickinson

Pubblicata il 20 agosto 2006 alle 16:19

When I was small, a Woman died -
Today - her Only Boy
Went up from the Potomac -
His face all Victory
To look at her - How slowly
The Seasons must have turned
Till Bullets clipt an Angle
And He passed quickly round -

If pride shall be in Paradise -
Ourself cannot decide -
Of their imperial Conduct -
No person testified -

But, proud in Apparition -
That Woman and her Boy
Pass back and forth, before my Brain
As even in the sky -

I'm confident that Bravoes -
Perpetual break abroad
For Braveries, remote as this
In Yonder Maryland.