Emily Elizabeth Dickinson (Эмили Дикинсон)

* * *

Two swimmers wrestled on the spar
Until the morning sun,
When one turned smiling to the land.
O God, the other one!

The stray ships passing spied a face
Upon the waters borne,
With eyes in death still begging raised,
And hands beseeching thrown.

1. As by the Dead We Love to Sit
2. To Help Our Bleaker Parts
3. What Soft, Cherubic Creatures
4. A Modest Lot, a Fame Petite
5. My Country's Wardrobe

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1721

Последние стихотворения

To English version