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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 9, Poema 35
XLIV.
A
bone
with
no
inside;
What
can
it
do?
It
is
not
good
for
table,
For
beggar,
or
for
cat.
Bones
have
jobs
to
do,
People
have
them
too;
A
bone
with
nothing
inside
Is
worse
than
shame.
But
how
can
finished
things
Get
a
new
job?
—
Old
Nicodemus'
ghost
Stands
in
front
of
us!
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — A2 Inglés | Cuentana
Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — A2 Inglés | Cuentana