Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta Emily Dickinson. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta Emily Dickinson. Mostrar todas las entradas

14 de abril de 2023

604

Unto my Books – so good to turn –
Far ends of tired Days –
It half endears the Abstinence –
And Pain – is missed – in Praise –
 
As Flavors – cheer Retarded Guests
With Banquettings to be –
So Spices – stimulate the time
Till my small Library –
 
It may be Wilderness – without –
Far feet of failing Men –
But Holiday – excludes the night –
And it is Bells – within –
 
I thank these Kinsmen of the Shelf –
Their countenances Kid
Enamor – in Prospective –
And satisfy – obtained –
 
Emily Dickinson

21 de septiembre de 2015

135

El agua se aprende por la sed;
la tierra, por los océanos atravesados;
el éxtasis, por la agonía.
La paz se revela por las batallas;
el amor, por el recuerdo de los que se fueron;
los pájaros, por la nieve.


Emily Dickinson

15 de mayo de 2014

543



Temo a la persona de pocas palabras.
Temo a la persona silenciosa.
Al sermoneador, lo puedo aguantar;
al charlatán, lo puedo entretener.

Pero con quien cavila
mientras el resto no deja de parlotear,
con esta persona soy cautelosa.
Temo que sea una gran persona.


Emily Dickinson

6 de mayo de 2013

486



I was the slightest in the House –
I took the smallest Room –
At night, my little Lamp, and Book –
And one Geranium –

So stationed I could catch the Mint
That never ceased to fall –
And just my Basket –
Let me think – I’m sure –
That this was all –

I never spoke – unless addressed –
And then, ‘twas brief and low –
I could not bear to live – aloud –
The Racket shamed me so –

And if it had not been so far –
And any one I knew
Were going – I had often thought
How noteless – I could die –

Emily Dickinson

Ilustracción: Kike de la Rubia. 

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