I breathed enough to take the Trick— And now, removed from Air — I simulate the Breath, so well — That One, to be quite sure — The Lungs are stirless — must descend Among the Cunning Cells — And touch the Pantomine — Himself, How numb, the Bellows feels!
1.
Language: English
Text Authorship:
- by Emily Dickinson (1830 - 1886), no title, appears in Poems: Third Series, in 4. Time and Eternity, no. 41
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Research team for this page: Emily Ezust [Administrator] , Malcolm Wren [Guest Editor]
2.
Language: English
This is the land the sunset washes, These are the banks of the yellow sea; Where it rose, or whither it rushes, These are the western mystery! Night after night her purple traffic Strews the landing with opal bales; Merchantmen poise upon horizons, Dip, and vanish like Orioles.
Text Authorship:
- by Emily Dickinson (1830 - 1886), no title, appears in Poems of Emily Dickinson, first published 1890
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Research team for this page: Emily Ezust [Administrator] , Malcolm Wren [Guest Editor]3.
Language: English
How soft a Caterpillar steps — I find one on my Hand From such a Velvet world it comes Such plushes at command Its soundless travels just arrest My slow — terrestrial eye Intent upon its own career What use has it for me —
Text Authorship:
- by Emily Dickinson (1830 - 1886), no title
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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- GER German (Deutsch) (Sharon Krebs) , "Die Raupe", copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Note: Two misprints have been corrected: Line 5, word 1 (formerly "It's"), and Line 7, word 2 (formerly "opon").
Research team for this page: Emily Ezust [Administrator] , Malcolm Wren [Guest Editor] , Sharon Krebs [Senior Associate Editor]4.
Language: English
I reason, Earth is short — And Anguish — absolute — And many hurt, But, what of that? I reason, we could die — The best Vitality Cannot excel Decay, But, what of that? I reason, that in Heaven — Somehow, it will be even — Some new Equation, given — But, what of that?
Text Authorship:
- by Emily Dickinson (1830 - 1886), no title, appears in Poems of Emily Dickinson, first published 1890
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Research team for this page: Emily Ezust [Administrator] , Eric Saroian5.
Language: English
To die — takes just a little while — They say it doesn't hurt — It's only fainter — by degrees — And then — it's out of sight — A darker Ribbon — for a Day — A Crape upon the Hat — And then the pretty sunshine comes — And helps us to forget — The absent — mystic — creature — That but for love of us — Had gone to sleep — that soundest time — Without the weariness —
Text Authorship:
- by Emily Dickinson (1830 - 1886)
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Research team for this page: Emily Ezust [Administrator] , Malcolm Wren [Guest Editor]Total word count: 282