EN + ES
Escuchar
143
Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 5, Poema 27
XXVII.
ENOUGH.
God
gave
a
loaf
to
every
bird,
But
just
a
crumb
to
me;
I
dare
not
eat
it,
though
I
starve—
My
sharp
joy
To
own
it,
touch
it,
know
the
feat
That
made
it
mine—
Too
happy
in
my
little
chance
For
bigger
wanting.
It
might
be
famine
all
around,
I
could
not
miss
an
ear,
Such
plenty
smiles
on
my
table,
My
store
looks
so
fine.
I
wonder
how
the
rich
may
feel—
An
Indiaman—an
Earl?
I
think
that
I
with
just
a
crumb
Am
ruler
of
them
all.
||
||
Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — B1 Inglés | Cuentana