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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 2, Poema 14
XIV.
PURPLE
CLOVER.
There
is
a
flower
bees
like,
And
butterflies
want;
To
get
the
purple
flower
The
humming-birds
try.
And
any
insect
that
comes,
Takes
honey
away
As
much
as
it
needs
And
she
can
give.
Her
face
is
round
like
the
moon,
And
redder
than
the
dress
Of
flowers
in
the
field,
Or
rhododendron.
She
does
not
wait
for
June;
Before
the
world
is
green
Her
strong
face
Is
seen
in
the
wind,
Fighting
with
the
grass,
Near
family
to
her,
For
place
of
soil
and
sun,
Sweet
fight
for
life.
And
when
the
hills
are
full,
And
new
styles
come,
She
does
not
lose
a
single
spice
For
jealousy.
Her
time
is
noon,
Her
care
the
sun,
Her
growth
by
the
bee
told
In
strong,
straight
tune.
The
bravest
of
the
group,
Giving
the
last,
Not
knowing
defeat
When
the
frost
comes.
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