sexta-feira, maio 05, 2006

3 poemas de Emily Dickinson - dedicados a...



Some, too fragile for winter winds

Some, too fragile for winter winds
The thoughtful grave encloses --
Tenderly tucking them in from frost
Before their feet are cold.

Never the treasures in her nest
The cautious grave exposes,
Building where schoolboy dare not look,
And sportsman is not bold.

This covert have all the children
Early aged, and often cold,
Sparrow, unnoticed by the Father --
Lambs for whom time had not a fold.



I have a Bird in spring

I have a Bird in spring
Which for myself doth sing --
The spring decoys.
And as the summer nears --
And as the Rose appears,
Robin is gone.

Yet do I not repine
Knowing that Bird of mine
Though flown --
Learneth beyond the sea
Melody new for me
And will return.

Fast is a safer hand
Held in a truer Land
Are mine --
And though they now depart,
Tell I my doubting heart
They're thine.

In a serener Bright,
In a more golden light
I see
Each little doubt and fear,
Each little discord here
Removed.

Then will I not repine,
Knowing that Bird of mine
Though flown
Shall in a distant tree
Bright melody for me
Return.



So proud she was to die

So proud she was to die
It made us all ashamed
That what we cherished, so unknown
To her desire seemed --
So satisfied to go
Where none of us should be
Immediately -- that Anguish stooped
Almost to Jealousy --

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