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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 9, Poema 31
XXXVII.
LOST
JOY.
I
had
a
joy
every
day
I
did
not
fully
see,
Then
suddenly
it
moved
away,
And
I
went
to
find
it.
When
it
went
behind
a
rock,
It
was
gone
from
my
view,
It
was
bigger
than
I
thought,
I
knew
its
sweetness
then.
I
worked
for
straw,
but
got
wheat
I
felt
proud
and
tricked.
Why
could
fields
decide
for
me
On
things
already
set?
I
tried
wheat,
and
hated
straw,
And
thanked
my
good
friend;
Wisdom
looks
better
from
far
Than
when
it
is
close.
Life
and
Death
and
Giants
These
things
stay
quiet.
Small
things
like
a
mill's
hopper,
Or
a
beetle
by
a
candle,
Or
a
fife's
small
sound,
They
stay
by
chance
And
make
their
noise.
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