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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 8, Poema 21
XXI.
If
anybody's
friend
be
dead,
It
's
sharpest
of
the
theme
The
thinking
how
they
walked
alive,
At
such
and
such
a
time.
Their
costume,
of
a
Sunday,
Some
manner
of
the
hair,
—
A
prank
nobody
knew
but
them,
Lost,
in
the
sepulchre.
How
warm
they
were
on
such
a
day:
You
almost
feel
the
date,
So
short
way
off
it
seems;
and
now,
They
're
centuries
from
that.
How
pleased
they
were
at
what
you
said;
You
try
to
touch
the
smile,
And
dip
your
fingers
in
the
frost:
When
was
it,
can
you
tell,
You
asked
the
company
to
tea,
Acquaintance,
just
a
few,
And
chatted
close
with
this
grand
thing
That
don't
remember
you?
Past
bows
and
invitations,
Past
interview,
and
vow,
Past
what
ourselves
can
estimate,
—
That
makes
the
quick
of
woe!
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — C2 Inglés | Cuentana