Emily Elizabeth Dickinson (Эмили Дикинсон)

* * *

A wounded deer leaps highest,
I've heard the hunter tell;
'T is but the ecstasy of death,
And then the brake is still.

The smitten rock that gushes,
The trampled steel that springs;
A cheek is always redder
Just where the hectic stings!

Mirth is the mail of anguish,
In which it cautions arm,
Lest anybody spy the blood
And "You're hurt" exclaim!

1. Поход почти окончен • Our Journey Had Advanced
2. Узнали цель Любви • We Learned the Whole of Love
3. Судьба — именье без ворот • Doom is the House without the Door
4. Шлю два заката... • I Send Two Sunsets
5. Если сгинешь в волнах • Should You but Fail at — Sea

Распечатать (Print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1347

Последние стихотворения

To English version