Gathered into the Earth, by Emily Dickinson
из слов и сплетен...
Той чуждой внят молвой,
тем грустным светом,
что нет предвестий им -
лишь трепет...
(Эмили - о смерти отца.)
[David Preest:
These powerful words about her father’s death were written
in pencil on a scrap of paper. He has been ‘gathered’ out
of the story of this life into the ‘strange Fame’ and
‘lonesome Glory’ of death, for which in this world we have
no prophetic sign except our feelings of Awe.]
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Gathered into the Earth, by Emily Dickinson
Gathered into the Earth,
And out of story --
Gathered so that strange Fame --
That lonesome Glory
That hath no omen here --
but Awe --
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