Emily Elizabeth Dickinson (Эмили Дикинсон)

Emancipation

No rack can torture me,
My soul's at liberty
Behind this mortal bone
There knits a bolder one

You cannot prick with saw,
Nor rend with scymitar.
Two bodies therefore be;
Bind one, and one will flee.

The eagle of his nest
No easier divest
And gain the sky,
Than mayest thou,

Except thyself may be
Thine enemy;
Captivity is consciousness,
So's liberty.

1. A Syllable
2. If the Foolish Call Them
3. How Still the Bells in Steeples Stand
4. Unto My Books So Good to Turn
5. Life's Trades

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1655

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