Читать книгу An irgendeinem Sommermorgen. Poems/Gedichte - Эмили Дикинсон - Страница 51

Why make it doubt – it hurts it so –

So sick – to guess –

So strong – to know –

So brave – upon it’s little Bed

To tell the very last They said

Unto Itself – and smile – And shake –

For that dear – distant – dangerous – Sake –

But – the Instead – the Pinching fear

That Something – it did do – or dare –

Offend the Vision – and it flee –

And They no more remember me –

Nor ever turn to tell me why –

Oh, Master, This is Misery –

ca. 1862