Эмили Дикинсон - Стихотворения

His venerable Hand to take —
And warming in our own —
A passage back- or two- to make
To Times when he- was young —

His quaint opinions — to inspect —
His thoughts to ascertain
On Themes concern our mutual mind —
The Literature of Man —

What interested Scholars- most —
What Competitions ran
When Plato — was a Certainty —
And Sophocles — a Man —

When Sappho — was a living Girl —
And Beatrice wore
The Gown that Dante- deified —
Facts Centuries before

He traverses — familiar —
As One should come to Town
And tell you all your Dreams-were true —
He lived — where Dreams were born —

His presence is Enchantment,
You beg him not to go —
Old Volumes shake their Vellum Heads
And tantalize — just so —

409

THE BATTLE-FIELD.

They dropped like Flakes —
Tthey dropped like Stars —
Like Petals from a Rose —
When suddenly across the June
A wind with fingers — goes —

They perished in the Seamless Grass, —
No eye could find the place —
But God can summon every face
On his Repealless — List

470

I am alive — I guess —
The Branches on my Hand
Are full of Morning Glory —
And at my finger's end —
The Carmine — tingles warm —
And if I hold a Glass
Across my Mouth — it blurs it —
Physician's — proof of Breath —

I am alive — because
I am not in a Room —
The Parlor — Commonly — it is —
So Visitors may come —
And lean — and view it sidewise —
And add` How cold — it grew" —
And Was it conscious — when it stepped
In Immortality?

I am alive — because
I do not own a House —
Entitled to myself — precise —
And fitting to no one else —

And marked my Girlhood's name —
So Visitors may know
Which Door is mine — and not mistake —
And try another Key —

How good-to be alive!
How infinite to be
Alive — two-fold —
The Birth I had —
And this — besides, in — Thee!

510

It was not Death, for I stood up,
And all the Dead, lie down —
It was not Night, for all the Bells
Put out their Tongues, for Noon.

It was not Frost, for on my Flesh
I felt Siroccos — crawl —
Nor Fire — for just my Marble feet
Could keep a Chancel, cool —

And yet it tasted, like them all,
The Figures I have seen
Set orderly, for Burial,
Reminded me, of mine —

As if my life were shaven,
And fitted to a frame,
And could not breathe without a key,
And «t was like Midnight, some —

When everything that ticked-has stopped —
And Space stares all around —
Or Grisly frosts- first Autumn morns,
Repeal the Beating Ground —

But most, like Chaos — Stopless — cool —
Without a Chance, or Spar —
Or even a Report of Land
To justify — Despair.»

540

I Took my Power in my Hand —
And went against the World —
'T was not so much as David — had —
But I was twice as bold —

I aimed my Pebble — but Myself
Was all the one that fell —
Was it Goliaf — was too large —
Or was myself — too small?

543

I fear a Man of frugal Speech —
I fear a Silent Man —
Haranguer — I can overtake —
Or Babbler — entertain —

But He who weigheth — While the Rest —
Expend their furthest pound —
Of this Man — I am wary —
I fear that He is Grand.

619

Glee — the great storm is over —
Four — have recovered the Land —
Forty — gone down together —
Into the boiling Sand —

Ring — for the Scant Salvation —
Toll — for the bonnie Souls —
Neighbor — and friend — and Bridegroom,
Spinning upon the Shoals —

How they will tell the Story —
When Winter shake the Door —
Till the Children urge — But the Forty —
Did they — come back no more?

Then a softness — suffuses the Story —
And a silence — the Teller's eye —
And the Children — no further question —
And only the Sea — reply —

621

I asked no other thing —
No other — was denied —
I offered Being — for it —
The Mighty Merchant sneered —

Brazil? He twirled a Button —
Without a glance my way —
But — Madam — is there nothing else —
That We can show — Today?

657

I dwell in Possibility —
A fairer House than Prose —
More numerous of Windows —
Superior — for Doors —

Of Chambers as the Cedars —
Impregnable of Eye —
And for an Everlasting Roof
The Gambrels of the Sky —

Of Visitors — the fairest —
For Occupation — This —
The spreading wide my narrow Hands
To gather Paradise —

680

Each Life Converges to some Centre —
Expressed — or still —
Exists in every Human Nature
A Goal —

Embodied scarcely to itself- it may be —
Too fair
For Credibility's presumption
To mar —

Adored with caution- as a Brittle Heaven —
To reach
Were hopeless Rainbow's Raiment
To touch —

Yet persevered toward —
sure- for the distance;
How high —
Unto the Saints slow diligence —
The Sky —

Ungained- it may be —
by a Life's low Venture —
But then —
Eternity enables the endeavoring
Again.

686

They say that «Time assuages» —
Time never did assuage —
An actual suffering strengthens
As Sinews do, with age —

Time is a Test of Trouble,
But not a Remedy —
If such it prove, it prove too
There was no Malady —

712

Because I could not stop for Death —
He kindly stopped for me —
The Carriage held but just Ourselves —
And Immortality.

We slowly drove — He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor, and my leisure too,
For His Civility —

We passed the School where Children strove
At Recess — in the Ring —
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain —
We passed the Setting Sun —