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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 5, Poema 2
II.
I
bring
a
special
wine
To
lips
long
dry,
near
mine,
And
invite
them
to
drink.
Crackling
with
fever,
they
try;
I
turn
my
eyes
away,
And
come
back
later
to
look.
The
hands
still
hold
the
glass;
The
lips
I
wished
to
cool,
alas!
Are
so
cold
now,
I
would
try
to
warm
The
hearts
where
frost
has
lain
For
years
under
the
earth.
Maybe
someone
thirsty
Would
have
shown
me
the
way
If
they
could
speak.
So
I
always
carry
the
cup
In
case
mine
is
the
drop
To
quench
a
traveler's
thirst,
If
anyone
might
say
to
me,
To
the
little,
to
me,
When
I
finally
awake.
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — B1 Inglés | Cuentana