The soul selects her own society,
Then shuts the Door;
On her divine Majority
Obtrude no more.
Unmoved, she notes the Chariots pausing
At her low Gate;
Unmoved, an Emperor be kneeling
Upon her Mat.
I've known her from an ample nation
Choose one;
Then close the valves of her attention
Like stone.
(Emily Dickinson)
Sem comentários:
Enviar um comentário