Emily Dickinson: I cried at Pity - not at Pain - I heard a Woman sa
I cried at Pity - not at Pain -
I heard a Woman say
"Poor Child" - and something in her voice
Convinced me - of me -
So long I fainted, to myself
It seemed the common way,
And Health, and Laughter, Curious things -
To look at, like a Toy -
To sometimes hear "Rich people" buy -
And see the Parcel rolled -
And carried, I suppose - to Heaven,
For children, made of Gold -
But not to touch, or wish for,
Or think of, with a sigh -
And so and so - had been to me,
Had God willed differently.
I wish I knew that Woman's name -
So when she comes this way,
To hold my life, and hold my ears
For fear I hear her say
She's "sorry I am dead" - again -
Just when the Grave and I -
Have sobbed ourselves almost to sleep,
Our only Lullaby.
Emily Dickinson
Pi� citazioni Emily Dickinson
Musicians wrestle everywhere -
All day - among the crowded air
I hear the silver strife -
And - waking - long before the morn -
Such transport breaks upon the town
I think it that "New life"...
No Notice gave She, but a Change -
No Message, but a Sigh -
For Whom, the Time did not suffice
That She should specify.
She was not warm, though Summer shone
Nor scrupulous of cold
Though Rime by Rime...
Within my Garden, rides a Bird
Upon a single Wheel -
Whose spokes a dizzy Music make
As 'twere a travelling Mill -
He never stops, but slackens
Above the Ripest Rose -
Partakes without alighting
And p...