Quinta-feira, 1 de Janeiro de 2009

Hope

 

 


 

 

 

Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul,

And sings the tune without the words,

And never stops at all,

 

And sweetest in the gale is heard;

And sore must be the storm

That could abash the little bird

That kept so many warm.

 

I've heard it in the chilliest land

And on the strangest sea;

Yet, never, in extremity,

It asked a crumb of me.

 

 

Emily Dickinson

 

 

 

O retrato da autora é um daguerreótipo datado de 1846 / 1847.

 

o artigo "Why Emily Dickinson Would Not Smile For the Camera" está aqui

 

 

 

 

Bom Ano 2009.

 

 

publicado por VF às 00:07
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