The Rainbow Never Tells Me, por Emily Dickinson

The Rainbow Never Tells Me

The rainbow never tells me

That gust and storm are by,

Yet is she more convincing

Than Philosophy.

My flowers turn from Forums—

Yet eloquent declare

What Cato couldn’t prove me

Except the birds were here!

¿Disfrutate esta lectura? ¡invítanos a un café!.
Tu ayuda nos permite existir.

The earth has many keys, Where melody is not Is the unknown peninsula. Beauty is nature’s fact. But witness for her land,

To make a prairie it takes a clove… One clover, and a bee. And revery. The revery alone will do, If bees are few.

Exhilaration is the Breeze That lifts us from the Ground And leaves us in another place Whose statement is not found - Returns us not, but after time

482 We Cover Thee—Sweet Face— Not that We tire of Thee— But that Thyself fatigue of Us— Remember—as Thou go—

173 A fuzzy fellow, without feet, Yet doth exceeding run! Of velvet, is his Countenance, And his Complexion, dun!

An everywhere of silver, With ropes of sand To keep it from effacing The track called land.

Glory is that bright tragic thing That for an instant Means Dominion - Warms some poor name That never felt the Sun,

There is no frigate like a book To take us lands away, Nor any coursers like a page Of prancing poetry. This traverse may the poorest take

296 One Year ago—jots what? God—spell the word! I—can’t— Was’t Grace? Not that— Was’t Glory? That—will do—

661 Could I but ride indefinite As doth the Meadow Bee And visit only where I liked And No one visit me

403 The Winters are so short— I’m hardly justified In sending all the Birds away— And moving into Pod—

762 The Whole of it came not at once— ’Twas Murder by degrees— A Thrust—and then for Life a chan… The Bliss to cauterize—

Said Death to Passion ‘Give of thine an Acre unto me.’ Said Passion, through contracting… ‘A Thousand Times Thee Nay.’ Bore Death from Passion

170 Portraits are to daily faces As an Evening West, To a fine, pedantic sunshine— In a satin Vest!

809 Unable are the Loved to die For Love is Immortality, Nay, it is Deity— Unable they that love—to die