Читать книгу La poesía temprana de Emily Dickinson. Cuadernillos 9 & 10 - Эмили Дикинсон - Страница 47

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An awful Tempest mashed the air –

The clouds were gaunt, and few –

A Black – as of a spectre’s Cloak

Hid Heaven and Earth from view.

The creatures chuckled on the Roofs –

And whistled in the air –

And shook their fists –

And gnashed their teeth –

And swung their frenzied hair.

The morning lit – the Birds arose –

The Monster’s faded eyes

Turned slowly to his native coast –

And peace – was Paradise!

1861