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Emily Elizabeth Dickinson (Эмили Дикинсон)


Dying


The sun kept setting, setting still;
No hue of afternoon
Upon the village I perceived, --
From house to house 't was noon.

The dusk kept dropping, dropping still;
No dew upon the grass,
But only on my forehead stopped,
And wandered in my face.

My feet kept drowsing, drowsing still,
My fingers were awake;
Yet why so little sound myself
Unto my seeming make?

How well I knew the light before!
I could not see it now.
'T is dying, I am doing; but
I'm not afraid to know.



Emily Elizabeth Dickinson's other poems:
  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: 1714


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Английская поэзия