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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 8, Poema 15
XV.
Their
height
in
heaven
comforts
not,
Their
glory
means
nothing
to
me;
It
was
best
imperfect,
as
it
was;
I'm
limited,
I
can't
see.
The
house
of
possibility,
The
shining
border
That
surrounds
the
fields
of
maybe,
To
me
feels
unsure.
The
wealth
I
had
satisfied
me;
If
it
was
smaller,
Then
I
counted
it
until
It
pleased
my
narrow
eyes
Better
than
larger
values,
However
true
they
seem;
This
timid
life
of
proof
Keeps
saying,
"I
don't
know."
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — B1 Inglés | Cuentana