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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 3, Poema 14
XIV.
PURPLE
CLOVER.
There
is
a
flower
that
bees
prefer,
And
butterflies
desire;
To
reach
the
purple
prize
The
hummingbirds
aspire.
And
whichever
insect
passes,
A
bit
of
honey
takes
away
Proportioned
to
its
need
And
her
capacity.
Her
face
is
rounder
than
the
moon,
And
redder
than
the
gown
Of
orchids
in
the
pasture,
Or
rhododendron
worn.
She
doesn't
wait
for
June;
Before
the
world
is
green
Her
strong
little
face
Against
the
wind
is
seen,
Competing
with
the
grass,
Close
kin
to
herself,
For
the
right
to
soil
and
sun,
Sweet
competitors
for
life.
And
when
the
hills
are
full,
And
new
fashions
blow,
She
does
not
lose
a
single
spice
For
jealousy.
Her
audience
is
the
noon,
Her
provider
is
the
sun,
Her
progress
announced
by
the
bee
In
a
royal,
unwavering
tune.
The
bravest
of
the
group,
Surrendering
last,
Not
even
aware
of
defeat
When
ended
by
the
frost.
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — B2 Inglés | Cuentana