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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 10, Poema 11
XVI.
THE
WIND.
It
is
like
light,
—
A
happy
feeling
It
is
like
a
bee,
—
A
song
with
no
end.
It
is
like
woods,
Quiet
like
breeze,
No
words,
but
it
moves
The
tall
trees.
It
is
like
morning,
—
Best
when
done,
—
The
clocks
always
Say
noon.
A
small
drop
of
dew
It
sits
on
a
leaf
It
thinks,
"I
am
big!"
But
life
is
small
The
sun
comes
to
work
The
day
comes
to
play
But
the
dew
is
gone
No
one
sees
it
Maybe
the
sun
takes
it
Or
it
goes
to
the
sea
No
one
knows
It
is
a
mystery
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — A1 Inglés | Cuentana