EN + ES
Escuchar
268
Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 8, Poema 28
XXVIII.
AT
LENGTH.
Her
final
summer
it
was,
And
yet
we
guessed
it
not;
If
tenderer
diligence
Pervaded
her,
we
thought
A
further
force
of
life
Developed
from
within,
—
When
Death
lit
all
the
brevity
up,
And
made
the
rush
clear.
We
wondered
at
our
blindness,
—
When
nothing
was
to
see
But
her
marble
guide-post,
—
At
our
stupidity,
When,
duller
than
our
dullness,
The
busy
darling
lay,
So
busy
was
she,
finishing,
So
leisurely
were
we!
||
||
Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — B2 Inglés | Cuentana