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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 5, Poema 9
IX.
THE
TEST.
I
can
wade
grief,
Whole
pools
of
it,
—
I
'm
used
to
that.
But
the
least
push
of
joy
Breaks
up
my
feet,
And
I
tip
—
drunken.
Let
no
pebble
smile,
'T
was
the
new
liquor,
—
That
was
all!
Power
is
only
pain,
Stranded,
through
discipline,
Till
weights
will
hang.
Give
balm
to
giants,
And
they
'll
wilt,
like
men.
Give
Himmaleh,
—
They
'll
carry
him!
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — C2 Inglés | Cuentana