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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 12, Poema 47
XLVII.
Adrift!
A
small
boat
adrift!
And
night
is
coming
soon!
Will
no
one
help
the
little
boat
Reach
the
nearest
town?
So
sailors
said
yesterday,
Just
as
the
dusk
turned
brown,
One
small
boat
stopped
its
fight,
And
sank
down
and
down.
But
angels
said,
yesterday,
Just
as
the
dawn
turned
red,
One
little
boat,
tired
from
storms
Fixed
its
sails,
and
moved
on
fast!
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — B1 Inglés | Cuentana