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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 12, Poema 57
LVII.
SLEEPING.
A
long,
long
sleep,
a
famous
sleep
That
shows
no
dawn
By
stretch
of
limb
or
blink
of
eye,
—
An
independent
one.
Was
there
ever
idleness
like
this?
Inside
a
stone
hut
To
pass
the
centuries
away
And
never
look
up
for
noon?
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — B1 Inglés | Cuentana