Emily Elizabeth Dickinson (Эмили Дикинсон)

Real

I like a look of agony,
Because I know it 's true;
Men do not sham convulsion,
Nor simulate a throe.

The eyes glaze once, and that is death.
Impossible to feign
The beads upon the forehead
By homely anguish strung.

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

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1671

Последние стихотворения

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