lunes, 22 de septiembre de 2008

Emily Dickinson


Ando descubriendo los poemas de Emily Dickinson. Son íntimos y delicados, como los pétalos de una flor secreta. Leerla me hace sentir espía


I died for beauty but was scarce

Adjusted in the tomb,

When one who died for truth was lain

In an adjoining room.


He questioned softly why I failed?

"For beauty," I replied.

"And I for truth,--the two are one;

We brethren are," he said.


And so, as kinsmen met a night,

We talked between the rooms,

Until the moss had reached our lips,

And covered up our names.

2 comentarios:

Anónimo dijo...

Qué linda eres. "Los pétalos de una flor secreta", qué bonito. Mujer que escribe de mujeres en su laberinto... hay letras... historia...

Un abrazo enorme!

Isabel

ángel dijo...

Espléndido poema de E, Dickinson, a quien admiro. Un gusto leerlo en su idioma. Gracias.