to Emily

Bliss is a work of countenance
On humility that myself informs -
I hide or I abstain in ensouled penance
as if petals worked the pierce of thorns.

And as solitude, unbound,
Moves me from me to sincerity,
In joyous silence do abound
the labors of one - not society.



Escrito há um tempo, mais de um ano, para a aniversariante de hoje, Emily Dickinson, que ajudou, talvez sem saber, a mudar minha vida também. Um pouco modificado.