When I hoped I feared, Since I hoped I dared; Everywhere alone As a church remain; Spectre cannot harm, Serpent cannot charm; He deposes doom, Who ha… - Emily Dickinson

Ningún cepo puede torturarme – mi alma – en libertad – debajo de este hueso mortal teje uno más audaz – No puedes serrucharlo – ni atravesarlo con la espada – dos cuerpos – hay – ata uno – el otro vuela – El águila de su nido no se aleja más fácil – y gana el cielo que lo que tu podrías – Excepto que seas tu propio enemigo – la prisión está en la conciencia – así como la libertad.

Dare you see a Soul at the White Heat?
Then crouch within the door — Red — is the Fire’s common tint — But when the vivid Ore

Has vanquished Flame’s conditions — It quivers from the Forge
Without a color, but the Light
Of unannointed Blaze — Least Village, boasts it’s Blacksmith — Whose Anvil’s even ring
Stands symbol for the finer Forge
That soundless tugs — within — Refining these impatient Ores
With Hammer, and with Blaze
Until the designated Light
Repudiate the Forge —

To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee,
One clover, and a bee,
And revery.
The revery alone will do,
If bees are few.