Читать книгу An irgendeinem Sommermorgen. Poems/Gedichte - Эмили Дикинсон - Страница 36

He fumbles at your Soul

As Players at the Keys

Before they drop full Music on –

He stuns you by degrees –

Prepares your brittle Nature

For the Etherial Blow

By fainter Hammers – further heard –

Then nearer – Then so slow

Your Breath has time to straighten –

Your Brain – to bubble Cool –

Deals – One – imperial – Thunderbolt –

That scalps your naked Soul –

When Winds take Forests in their Paws –

The Universe – is still –

ca. 1862