© Eni Turkeshi PhotographyEmily Dickinson
A Light exists in Spring
Not present on the Year
At any other period —
When March is scarcely here
A Color stands abroad
On Solitary Fields
That Science cannot overtake
But Human Nature feels.
It waits upon the Lawn,
It shows the furthest Tree
Upon the furthest Slope you know
It almost speaks to you.
Then as Horizons step
Or Noons report away
Without the Formula of sound
It passes and we stay —
A quality of loss
Affecting our Content
As Trade had suddenly encroached
Upon a Sacrament.
7 comments:
kompozim i shkelqyer, si perhere! :)
flm;)
me duket se e dhene qarte idene e poezis me ato lule qe dalin prej gurit,bukur!
Xheni gezohem qe te pelqen mike.dhe flm je shume pozitive perher.
cheers.
flm Eni,gjej te njejten gje tek ty.
Ja ku po ta them se me terheq shume ky blog. Fotot i ke me sqime dhe bartin goxha gjendje. Urime.
Xheke
poetet flasin bukur ;) flm Xheke, jam e nderuar.i njejti mendim dhe nga une per blogun tuaj ;)
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