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'Tis so appalling—it exhilarates—
So over Horror, it half Captivates—
The Soul stares after it, secure—
A Sepulchre, fears frost, no more—
To scan a Ghost, is faint—
But grappling, conquers it—
How easy, Torment, now—
......
'Tis true my garments threadbare are,
And sorry poor I seem;
But inly I am richer far
Than any poet's dream.
For I've a hidden life no one
Can ever hope to see;
A sacred sanctuary none
May share with me.
Aloof I stand from out the strife,
......
Today I opened wide my eyes,
And stared with wonder and surprise,
To see beneath November skies
An apple blossom peer;
Upon a branch as bleak as night
It gleamed exultant on my sight,
A fairy beacon burning bright
Of hope and cheer.
'Alas! ' said I, 'poor foolish thing,
......
Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses
your understanding.
Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its
heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.
And could you keep your heart in wonder at the
daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem
less wondrous than your joy;
......
She
I'm waiting for the man I hope to wed.
I've never seen him - that's the funny part.
I promised I would wear a rose of red,
Pinned on my coat above my fluttered heart,
So that he'd know me - a precaution wise,
Because I wrote him I was twenty-three,
And Oh such heaps and heaps of silly lies. . .
So when we meet what will he think of me?
......
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Wenn der Sonne hinter den wolken verschwindet,
singt das Licht leise,
als würde es warten,
dass du es wiederfindest.
Selbst im Schatten
flüstert die Welt,
dass jede Dunkelheit
einen Morgen kennt.
......
When the sun disappears behind the clouds,
the light softly sings,
as if waiting
for you to find it again.
Even in the shadow
the world whispers,
that every darkness
knows a morning.
......
Als de zon achter de wolken verdwijnt,
blijft het licht zachtjes zingen,
alsof het wacht
tot jij het weer kunt vinden.
Ook in de schaduw
fluistert de wereld,
dat elke duisternis
een morgen kent.
......
Soms is hoop
niet groter dan een ademhaling,
een trilling in de stilte
voor het licht de kamer raakt.
Ze zegt niets,
maar blijft,
achter gesloten ogen,
in handen die blijven reiken,
ook als niemand antwoordt.
......