Читать книгу An irgendeinem Sommermorgen. Poems/Gedichte - Эмили Дикинсон - Страница 30

Many a phrase has the English language –

I have heard but one –

Low as the laughter of the Cricket,

Loud, as the Thunder’s Tongue –

Murmuring, like old Caspian Choirs,

When the Tide’s a’ lull –

Saying itself in new inflection –

Like a Whippowil –

Breaking in bright Orthography

On my simple sleep –

Thundering it’s Prospective –

Till I stir, and weep –

Not for the Sorrow, done me –

But the push of Joy –

Say it again, Saxon!

Hush – Only to me!

ca. 1861