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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 11, Poema 5
V.
TO
MARCH.
Dear
March,
come
in!
I'm
so
glad!
I
looked
for
you
before.
Put
down
your
hat
—
You
must
have
walked
—
How
tired
you
are!
Dear
March,
how
are
you?
And
the
others?
Did
you
leave
Nature
well?
Oh,
March,
come
upstairs
with
me,
I
have
so
much
to
tell!
I
got
your
letter,
and
the
birds';
The
maples
never
knew
That
you
were
coming,
—
I
declare,
How
red
their
faces
turned!
But,
March,
forgive
me
—
And
all
those
hills
You
left
for
me
to
color;
There
was
no
purple
left,
You
took
it
all
with
you.
Who
knocks?
That
April!
Lock
the
door!
I
will
not
be
chased!
He
stayed
away
a
year,
to
call
When
I
am
busy.
But
small
things
seem
so
trivial
As
soon
as
you
come,
That
blame
is
just
as
dear
as
praise
And
praise
as
simple
as
blame.
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — B1 Inglés | Cuentana