martes, marzo 15, 2011

I'm nobody! Who are you?

Are you nobody, too?

Then there's a pair of us--don't tell!

They'd banish us, you know.

How dreary to be somebody!

How public, like a frog

To tell your name the livelong day

To an admiring bog!

314 (254)

"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 chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet never - in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me.

-Emily Dickinson