Emily Elizabeth Dickinson (Эмили Дикинсон)

* * *

The bee is not afraid of me,
I know the butterfly;
The pretty people in the woods
Receive me cordially.

The brooks laugh louder when I come,
The breezes madder play.
Wherefore, mine eyes, thy silver mists?
Wherefore, O summer's day?

1. The Farthest Thunder That I Heard
2. The Lost Thought
3. Reticence
4. On the Tleakness of My Lot
5. Upon the Gallows Hung a Wretch

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1814

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