Читать книгу An irgendeinem Sommermorgen. Poems/Gedichte - Эмили Дикинсон - Страница 20

I taste a liquor never brewed –

From Tankards scooped in Pearl –

Not all the Frankfort Berries

Yield such an Alcohol!

Inebriate of Air – am I –

And Debauchee of Dew –

Reeling – thro endless summer days –

From inns of Molten Blue –

When »Landlords« turn the drunken Bee

Out of the Foxglove’s door –

When Butterflies – renounce their »drams« –

I shall but drink the more!

Till Seraphs swing their snowy Hats –

And Saints – to windows run –

To see the little Tippler

Leaning against the – Sun –

ca. 1860