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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 1, Poema 8
VIII.
A
hurt
deer
jumps
highest,
I
heard
the
hunter
say;
It
is
just
the
joy
of
death,
And
then
all
is
still.
The
hit
rock
gushes,
The
stepped
steel
springs;
A
cheek
turns
redder
Where
pain
stings!
Laughter
hides
pain,
It
keeps
it
safe,
So
no
one
sees
the
hurt
And
says,
"You're
hurt!"
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — A2 Inglés | Cuentana
Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — A2 Inglés | Cuentana