Untitled # 4
The Martyr Poets - did not tell -
But wrought their Pang in syllable -
That when their mortal name be numb -
Their mortal fate - encourage Some -
The Martyr Painters - never spoke -
Bequeathing - rather - to their Work -
That when their conscious fingers cease -
Some seek in Art - the Art of Peace -
Emily Dickinson (1830 - 1886)
posted by Kafka @ 10:03
3 comments
3 Comments:
She lived not much, barely unveiling her inner self by letting others know her poetry. Most of her poems were kept like a secret only discovered when she died. Died?! Who?!
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This is my letter to the World
That never wrote to Me -
The simple News that Nature told -
With tender Majesty
Her Message is committed
To Hands I cannot see -
For Love of Her - Sweet - countrymen -
Judge tenderly - of Me
Again and always Emily Dickinson. Sorry, but I just couldn't help myself to offer back one of her poems.
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