You Cannot Put a Fire Out, di Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson

You Cannot Put a Fire Out

530

You cannot put a Fire out—

A Thing that can ignite

Can go, itself, without a Fan—

Upon the slowest Night—

You cannot fold a Flood—

And put it in a Drawer—

Because the Winds would find it out—

And tell your Cedar Floor—

#Americans #Women #XIXCentury

Ti è piaciuta questa lettura? Offriteci un caffè!.
Il tuo aiuto ci permette di esistere.

Altre opere di Emily Dickinson...

Awake Ye Muses Nine, Sing Me a Strain Divine

Awake ye muses nine, sing me a str… Unwind the solemn twine, and tie m… Oh the Earth was made for lovers,… For sighing, and gentle whispering… All things do go a courting, in ea…

Life CXI. a door just opened on a street (953)

CXI A DOOR just opened on a street— I, lost, was passing by— An instant’s width of warmth discl… And wealth, and company.

Life III. Soul, wilt thou toss again? (139)

III SOUL, wilt thou toss again? By just such a hazard Hundreds have lost, indeed, But tens have won an all.

Sleep Is Supposed to Be

13 Sleep is supposed to be By souls of sanity The shutting of the eye. Sleep is the station grand

Heaven Is So Far of the Mind

370 Heaven is so far of the Mind That were the Mind dissolved— The Site—of it—by Architect Could not again be proved—

So Well That I Can Live Without

456 So well that I can live without— I love thee—then How well is that… As well as Jesus? Prove it me

’Twas Just This Time, Last Year, I Died

445 ’Twas just this time, last year,… I know I heard the Corn, When I was carried by the Farms— It had the Tassels on—

Prayer Is the Little Implement

437 Prayer is the little implement Through which Men reach Where Presence—is denied them. They fling their Speech

924 Love—is that later Thing than Death

Love—is that later Thing than Dea… More previous—than Life— Confirms it at its entrance—And Usurps it—of itself— Tastes Death—the first—to hand th…

My Worthiness Is All my Doubt

751 My Worthiness is all my Doubt— His Merit—all my fear— Contrasting which, my quality Do lowlier—appear—

Going to Him! Happy Letter! Tell Him—

Going to him! Happy letter! Tell… Tell him the page I didn’t write; Tell him I only said the syntax, And left the verb and the pronoun… Tell him just how the fingers hurr…

If This Is “Fading”

120 If this is “fading” Oh let me immediately “fade”! If this is “dying” Bury me, in such a shroud of red!

He Told a Homely Tale

763 He told a homely tale And spotted it with tears— Upon his infant face was set The Cicatrice of years—

There is a pain—so utter

599 There is a pain—so utter— It swallows substance up— Then covers the Abyss with Trance… So Memory can step

Love XXV. Wild nights! Wild nights! (249)

XXV Wild nights—Wild nights! Were I with thee Wild nights should be Our luxury!

Emily Dickinson

You Cannot Put a Fire Out

Condividere

Altre opere di Emily Dickinson...