 |
| Ilustración de "Yacarandá y los titiribíes" - Claudia Ampudia |
Within
my Garden, rides a Bird
Emily Dickinson
Within my Garden, rides a Bird
Opon a single Wheel -
Whose spokes a dizzy music make
As 'twere a travelling Mill -
He never stops, but slackens
Above the Ripest Rose -
Partakes without alighting
And praises as he goes,
Till every spice is tasted -
And then his Fairy Gig
Reels in remoter atmospheres -
And I rejoin my Dog,
And He and I, perplex us
If positive, 'twere we -
Or bore the Garden in the Brain
This Curiosity -
But He, the best Logician,
Refers my clumsy eye -
To just vibrating Blossoms!
An exquisite Reply!
Opon a single Wheel -
Whose spokes a dizzy music make
As 'twere a travelling Mill -
He never stops, but slackens
Above the Ripest Rose -
Partakes without alighting
And praises as he goes,
Till every spice is tasted -
And then his Fairy Gig
Reels in remoter atmospheres -
And I rejoin my Dog,
And He and I, perplex us
If positive, 'twere we -
Or bore the Garden in the Brain
This Curiosity -
But He, the best Logician,
Refers my clumsy eye -
To just vibrating Blossoms!
An exquisite Reply!
