Emily Elizabeth Dickinson (Эмили Дикинсон)

* * *

Except to heaven, she is nought;
Except for angels, lone;
Except to some wide-wandering bee,
A flower superfluous blown;

Except for winds, provincial;
Except by butterflies,
Unnoticed as a single dew
That on the acre lies.

The smallest housewife in the grass,
Yet take her from the lawn,
And somebody has lost the face
That made existence home!

1. Reticence
2. What Soft, Cherubic Creatures
3. Unto My Books So Good to Turn
4. This Merit Hath the Worst
5. Your Riches Taught Me Poverty

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1719

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