quarta-feira, 13 de abril de 2011

Poema de Emily Dickinson

I died for Beauty - but was scarce

Adjusted in the Tomb

When One who died for Truth, was lain

in an adjoining Room -

He questioned softly "Why I failed"?

"For Beauty", I replied -

"And I - for Truth - Themself are One -

We Brethren, are,"He said -

And so, as Kinsmen, met a Nigth -

We talked between the Rooms -

Until the Moss had reached our lips -

And covered up - our names -

Go slow, my soul...