Читать книгу An irgendeinem Sommermorgen. Poems/Gedichte - Эмили Дикинсон - Страница 34

How the old Mountains drip with Sunset

How the Hemlocks burn –

How the Dun Brake is draped in Cinder

By the Wizard Sun –

How the old Steeples hand the Scarlet

Till the Ball is full –

Have I the lip of the Flamingo

That I dare to tell?

Then, how the Fire ebbs like Billows –

Touching all the Grass

With a departing – Sapphire – feature –

As a Duchess passed –

How a small Dusk crawls on the Village

Till the Houses blot

And the odd Flambeau, no men carry

Glimmer on the Street –

How it is Night – in Nest and Kennel –

And where was the Wood –

Just a Dome of Abyss is Bowing

Into Solitude –

These are the Visions flitted Guido –

Titian – never told –

Domenichino dropped his pencil –

Paralyzed, with Gold –

ca. 1861