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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 6, Poema 7
VII.
THE
BUTTERFLY'S
DAY.
From
cocoon
a
butterfly
Like
a
lady
from
her
door
Came
out
—
a
summer
day
—
Going
everywhere,
With
no
plan
I
see,
Except
to
go
around
On
small
trips
The
clovers
know.
Her
pretty
umbrella
was
seen
Closing
in
a
field
Where
men
made
hay,
then
fought
With
a
cloud,
Where
parties,
like
her,
Seemed
to
go
To
nowhere,
Like
a
show.
And
even
with
bee
that
worked,
And
flower
that
blew,
This
group
of
rest
Ignored
them,
from
the
sky,
Till
sundown
came,
And
men
that
made
the
hay,
And
afternoon,
and
butterfly,
Were
gone
in
its
sea.
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — A1 Inglés | Cuentana