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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 5, Poema 7
VII.
THE
WHITE
HEAT.
Do
you
dare
to
see
a
soul
on
fire?
Then
stand
by
the
door.
Red
is
the
usual
fire
color;
But
when
the
ore
Has
burned
enough,
Its
light
dances
With
no
color
but
the
blaze
Of
pure
light.
Every
village
has
a
blacksmith,
Whose
hammer's
beat
Stands
for
the
finer
work
That
quietly
goes
on
inside,
Making
these
ores
better
With
hammer
and
fire,
Until
the
light
Leaves
the
forge.
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — A2 Inglés | Cuentana