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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 8, Poema 17
They
run
and
play
outside.
They
laugh
and
shout
loud.
But
sometimes,
they
feel
sad.
The
fun
can
stop
soon.
Few
have
enough,
—
enough
is
one;
To
that
special
group
Do
we
not
have
the
right
To
quietly
belong?
A
man
hangs
on
the
rope,
Too
bad
for
even
hell.
The
law
says
he
must
go.
His
mother
walks
in
slowly,
He
is
her
only
son.
She
cries,
"He
is
all
I
have."
Oh,
what
a
sad
gift!
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — A1 Inglés | Cuentana