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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 7, Poema 7
VII.
THE
BUTTERFLY'S
DAY.
From
cocoon
a
butterfly
Like
a
lady
from
her
door
Emerged
—
a
summer
afternoon
—
Wandering
everywhere,
Without
a
plan
I
could
see,
Except
to
roam
around
On
varied
adventures
The
clovers
understood.
Her
pretty
parasol
was
seen
Closing
in
a
field
Where
men
made
hay,
then
struggling
hard
With
a
resisting
cloud,
Where
groups,
as
ghostly
as
herself,
Seemed
to
go
nowhere
In
aimless
circles,
Like
a
tropical
show.
And
despite
the
bee
that
worked,
And
flower
that
eagerly
bloomed,
This
audience
of
idleness
Ignored
them,
from
the
sky,
Until
sundown
crept,
a
steady
tide,
And
men
that
made
the
hay,
And
afternoon,
and
butterfly,
Vanished
in
its
sea.
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — B2 Inglés | Cuentana