Emily Elizabeth Dickinson (Эмили Дикинсон)

* * *

As children bid the guest good-night,
And then reluctant turn,
My flowers raise their pretty lips,
Then put their nightgowns on.

As children caper when they wake,
Merry that it is morn,
My flowers from a hundred cribs
Will peep, and prance again.

1. Fire
2. Lost Faith
3. Ventures
4. I Have a King Who Does Not Speak
5. Disenchantment

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1746

Последние стихотворения

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