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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 1, Poema 8
VIII.
A
wounded
deer
leaps
highest,
I've
heard
hunters
say;
It's
merely
the
ecstasy
of
death,
And
then
the
forest
is
still.
The
struck
rock
that
gushes,
The
trampled
steel
that
springs;
A
cheek
is
always
reddest
Where
the
fever
stings!
Laughter
is
the
armor
of
anguish,
In
which
it
safely
hides,
Lest
anyone
see
the
blood
And
cry,
"You're
hurt!"
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — C1 Inglés | Cuentana