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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 1, Poema 10
X.
IN
A
LIBRARY.
It's
a
precious,
decaying
pleasure
To
meet
an
old
book,
Dressed
in
its
century's
style;
A
privilege,
I
think,
To
hold
its
venerable
hand,
And
warming
in
our
own,
To
journey
back,
or
two,
To
times
when
it
was
young.
To
explore
its
quaint
thoughts,
Its
knowledge
to
unfold
On
our
shared
interests,
The
literature
of
old;
What
scholars
valued
most,
What
debates
occurred
When
Plato
was
a
certainty,
And
Sophocles
a
man;
When
Sappho
was
alive,
And
Beatrice
wore
The
gown
Dante
praised.
Facts,
centuries
before,
He
travels
familiar,
As
if
visiting
town
And
telling
you
your
dreams
were
real;
He
lived
where
dreams
began.
His
presence
is
magic,
You
beg
him
not
to
leave;
Old
books
nod
their
vellum
heads
And
tease,
just
so.
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — B2 Inglés | Cuentana