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The Spirituality of Emily Dickinson
2008-05-10 19:25:00 Emily Dickinson referred to herself as a pagan. Some biographers would go so far as to label her a druid for her worship of nature. But was this apparently stubborn heathen life really built on atheism? On the surface what seems a blatant rebellion against the Christian reforms sweeping New England in the 19th Century could be misinterpreted as a lack of spiritual inclination. If we look beneath even a single veneer we will undoubtedly find true spirituality at the heart of her endeavour; far from snubbing God, but simply insisting on no less than a first-hand experience of Him. The poet shunned religious doctrine, but did she shun religion? Certainly not as a whole, and even then it may be merely a matter of syntax. The words ‘religion’ and ‘spirituality’ may at times be used interchangeably, and at others a fine distinction must be made. Charles Anderson chooses to make no distinction, using the word ‘religion’ in its broadest, and perhaps most primal sense: “The fin...
The Poems of Emily Dickinson
2008-01-26 22:30:00 Emily Dickinson (December 10, 1830 May 15, 1886) was an American poet. Though virtually unknown in her lifetime, Dickinson has come to be regarded, along with Walt Whitman, as one of the two quintessential American poets of the 19th century.
By: Asiaing.com
We learned the Whole of Love - Emily Dickinson
2007-12-10 08:05:00 Bookstore - from hereWe learned the Whole of Love —The Alphabet — the Words —A Chapter — then the mighty Book —Then — Revelation closed —But in Each Other's eyesAn Ignorance beheld —Diviner than the Childhood's —And each to each, a Child —Attempted to expoundWhat Neither — understood —Alas, that Wisdom is so large —And Truth — so manifold!Emily Elizabeth Dickinson (b. on Dec 10, 1830 in Amherst, Massachusetts, USA; d. May 15, 1886 in Amherst, Massachusetts, USA)
By: Nothingandall
Book Review: Shaggy Muses: The Dogs Who Inspired Virginia Woolf, Emily Dick
2007-10-03 18:55:00 Author Maureen Adams wrote a wonderful overview of these famous women writers in her book Shaggy Muses. She explores each writer's life within the context of their relationship and dependence on their dog(s). If you are a dog lover, you can connect to the strong bonds between the women and their dogs. A dog is always accepting and incredibly tolerant. These dogs were no different and constantly, devotedly listened to their mistresses recite their work without ever appearing critical. They also kept the writers from feeling too much loneliness during their literary solitude.Even if you are not a dog lover, this book offers a great overview and introduction to some of the most famous women writers of English literature. I do have to warn you; however, some of the experiences these women went through were painful.Pick up a copy of "Shaggy Muses: The Dogs Who Inspired Virginia Woolf, Emily Dickinson, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Edith Wharton, and Emily Bronte" by Maureen Adams.Publishe...
Daily Quote - July 21st - Emily Dickinson
2007-07-21 09:54:00 To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else. Emily Dickinson We do ?Quote of the Day? seven days a week 365 days a year. However, Create Business Growth is primarily a Monday through Friday blog and our regular posts are usually available before noon EST. If you are around on the weekend, please ...
Daily Quote - June 27th - Emily Dickinson
2007-06-27 11:00:00 To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else. Emily Dickinson We do “Quote of the Day” seven days a week 365 days a year. However, Create Business Growth is primarily a Monday through Friday blog and our regular posts are usually available before noon EST. If you are around on the weekend, please enjoy surfing ...
This Is My Letter To The World - Emily Dickinson
2007-05-15 20:23:00 This is my letter to the world,That never wrote to me,The simple news that Nature told,With tender majesty.Her message is committedTo hands I cannot see;For love of her, sweet countrymen,Judge tenderly of me!Emily Elizabeth Dickinson (b. on Dec 10, 1830 in Amherst, Massachusetts, USA; d. May 15, 1886 in Amherst, Massachusetts, USA)
By: Nothingandall
The Trusty Fly Swat
As the poet Emily Dickinson (...
2007-04-23 17:30:00 The Trusty Fly SwatAs the poet Emily Dickinson (1830-1888) said, Americanists will hear a fly buzz when they die.Well, I heard one but determined to reverse the situation. When I heard that fatal sound late last night!The question was how to achieve this? When suddenly I remembered an almost forgotten technology - the fly swat! So without any possible hope of success, I was off to my local after hours convenience store. And there it was! In the laundry section. Aerodynamically perfect and in a fab green washable plastic. This is a photo of the actual swat!Now, this ingenious invention has many unspoken qualities.It's real eco friendly - no more nasty ozone-depleting fluorocarbons.And a great exercise substitute. Something to vary your upper-body regimen of bench presses, bar raises, and so on. But remember, you need to swap hands half way through your repetitions for balanced development. And there's the added advantage of getting an aerobic work-out. Rep's can be recorded alongs...
Wild Nights ... / Noites Loucas... - Emily Dickinson
2006-12-10 09:19:01 Wild Nights ? Wild Nights!Were I with theeWild Nights should beOur luxury!Futile ? the Winds ?To a Heart in port ?Done with the Compass ?Done with the Chart!Rowing in Eden ?Ah, the Sea!Might I but moor ? Tonight ?In Thee!Em Portugus:Noites Loucas ? Noites Loucas!Estivesse eu contigoNoites Loucas seriamNosso luxuoso abrigo!Para Corao em porto ?Ventos ? so coisas fteis ?Bssolas ? dispensveis ?Portulanos ? inteis!Navegando em pleno den ?Ah, o Mar!Quem dera ? esta Noite ? em TiAncorar!Traduo: Paulo Henriques BrittoEmily Dickinson (b. in Amherst, Massachusetts, 10 Dez 1830; d. in Amherst on 15 May 1886).
By: Nothingandall
Emily Dickinson -Presentiment is that long shadow...-
2006-01-15 05:27:00 Presentiment is that long shadow on the lawn Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)Presentiment is that long shadow on the lawnIndicative that suns go down;The notice to the startled grassThat darkness is about to pass.PresentimientoPresentimien-to es esa larga sombraque poco a poco avanza sobre el céspedcuando el sol sus imperios abandona...Presentimiento es el susurro tenueque corre entre la hierba temerosapara decirle que la noche viene.Versión de Carlos López Narváez
By: Poemas en ingles
Emily Dickinson -I'm nobody! Who are you?-
2006-01-15 05:20:00 I'm nobody! Who are you? Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)I'm nobody! Who are you?Are you nobody, too?Then there's a pair of us -don't tell!-They'd advertise -you know!-How dreary to be somebody!How public like a frogTo tell one's name the livelong dayTo an admiring bog!Soy nadie. ¿Tú quién eres?Soy nadie. ¿Tú quién eres?¿Eres tú también nadie?Ya somos dos entonces. No lo digas:lo contarían, sabes.Qué tristeza ser alguien,qué público: como una ranadecir el propio nombre junio enteropara una charca admiradora.Versión de L.S.
By: Poemas en ingles
Emily Dickinson -It might be lonelier-
2006-01-15 05:14:00 It might be lonelierEmily Dickinson (1830-1886)It might be lonelierWithout the Loneliness I'm so accustomed to my FatePerhaps the Other -PeaceWould interrupt the DarkAnd crowd the little RoomToo scant -by Cubits- to containThe Sacrament -of Him-I am not used to to hopeIt might intrude uponIts sweet parade -blaspheme the place-Ordained to SufferingIt might be easierTo fail -with Land in Sight-Than gain -My Blue Peninsula-To perish - of Delight-Podría estar más solaPodría estar más sola sin mi soledad,tan habituada estoy a mi destino,tal vez la otra paz,podría interrumpir la oscuridady llenar el pequeño cuarto,demasiado exiguo en su medidapara contener el sacramento de él,no estoy habituada a la esperanza,podría entrometerse en su dulce ostentación,violar el lugar ordenado para el sufrimiento,sería más fácil fallecer con la tierra a la vista,que conquistar mi azul península,perecer de deleite.Versión de L.S.
By: Poemas en ingles
Emily Dickinson -Safe in their alabaster chambers-
2006-01-15 05:06:00 Safe in their alabaster chambersEmily Dickinson (1830-1886)Safe in their alabaster chambers,Untouched by morning and untouched by noon,Sleep the meek members of the resurrection,Rafter of satin, and roof of stone.Light laughs the breeze in her castle of sunshine;Babbles the bee in a stolid ear;Pipe the sweet birds in ignorant cadences,-Ah, what sagacity perished here!Grand go the years in the crescent above them;Worlds scoop their arcs, and firmaments row,Diadems drop and Doges surrender,Soundless as dots on a disk of snow.A salvo en sus cámaras de alabastroA salvo en sus Cámaras de AlabastroInsensibles al amanecer y al mediodíaDuermen los mansos miembros de la ResurrecciónViga de raso, y techo de piedra.La luz se ríe de la brisa en su castillo sobre ellosmurmura la abeja en un oído imperturbable,Trinan los dulces Pájaros en cadencia ignorada-Ah, ¡Cuánta sagacidad aquí perecidaSolemnes pasan los años, crecientes , sobre elloslos mundos recogen sus arcos -y los firmamentos...
By: Poemas en ingles
Emily Dickinson -I felt a funeral in my brain-
2006-01-15 04:59:00 I felt a funeral in my brainEmily Dickinson (1830-1886)I felt a funeral in my brain,And mourners, to and fro,Kept treading, treading, till it seemedThat sense was breaking through.And when they all were seated,A service like a drumKept beating, beating, till I thoughtMy mind was going numbAnd then I heard them lift a box,And creak across my soulWith those same boots of lead, again.Then space began to tollAs all the heavens were a bell,And being, but an ear,And I and Silence some strange RaceWrecked, solitary, here.Sentí un funeral en mi cerebroSentí un funeral en mi cerebro,los deudos iban y veníanarrastrándose -arrastrándose- hasta que parecióque el sentido se quebraba totalmente-y cuando todos estuvieron sentados,una liturgia, como un tambor-comenzó a batir -a batir- hasta que penséque mi mente se volvía muda-y luego los oí levantar el cajóny crujió a través de mi almacon los mismos botines de plomo, de nuevo,el espacio- comenzó a repicar,como si todos los cielos fue...
By: Poemas en ingles
Emily Dickinson -He was weak, and I was strong -then-
2006-01-15 04:49:00 He was weak, and I was strong –then-Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)He was weak, and I was strong -then-So He let me lead him inI was weak, and He was strong thenSo I let him lead me. Home.'Twasn't far -the door was near-'Twasn't dark -for He went- too'Twasn't loud, for He said noughtThat was all I cared to know.Day knocked -and we must part-Neither -was strongest- nowHe strove -and I strove- tooWe didn't do it -tho'!El era débil y yo fuerteÉl era débil y yo era fuerte,después él dejó que yo le hiciera pasary entonces yo era débil y él era fuerte,y dejé que él me guiara a casa.No era lejos, la puerta estaba cerca,tampoco estaba oscuro, él avanzaba a mi lado,no había ruido, él no dijo nada,y eso era lo que yo más deseaba saber.El día irrumpió, tuvimos que separarnos,ahora ninguno de los dos era más fuerte,él luchó, yo también luché,¡pero no lo hicimos a pesar de todo!Versión de L.S.
By: Poemas en ingles
Emily Dickinson -Go not too near a House of Rose-
2006-01-15 03:50:00 Go not too near a House of RoseEmily Dickinson (1830-1886)Go not too near a House of Rose--The depredation of a Breeze--Or inundation of a DewAlarms its walls away--Nor try to tie the Butterfly,Nor climb the Bars of Ecstasy,In insecurity to lieIs Joy's insuring quality.A una Casa de RosaA una Casa de Rosa no te acerquesdemasiado, que estragos de una brisao el rocío inundándola -una gota-abatirán su muro, amedentrado. Y atar no intentes a la mariposa,ni escalar setos del arrobamiento.Hallar descanso en lo inseguroestá en el mismo ser de la alegría.
By: Poemas en ingles
Emily Dickinson -As far from pity as complaint-
2006-01-15 03:48:00 As far from pity as complaintEmily Dickinson (1830-1886)As far from pity as complaint,As cool to speech as stone,As numb to revelationAs if my trade were bone. As far from time as history,As near yourself to-dayAs children to the rainbow’s scarf,Or sunset’s yellow play To eyelids in the sepulchre.How still the dancer lies,While color’s revelations break,And blaze the butterflies!Tan lejos de la piedad como la quejaTan lejos de la piedad, como la queja-tan frío a la palabra -como la piedra-inconmovible a la revelacióncomo si mi oficio fuera de hueso-tan lejos del tiempo -como la historia-tan cerca de uno mismo -hoy-como niños, a las bufandas del arco iris-a la puesta de sol a su juego amarilloa los párpados en el sepulcro-¡cuán mudo yace el danzarín-cuando las revelaciones del color se rompen-y resplandecen -las mariposas! Versión de Silvina Ocampo
By: Poemas en ingles
Emily Dickinson -Of all the souls that stand create-
2006-01-15 03:46:00 Of all the souls that stand createEmily Dickinson (1830-1886)Of all the souls that stand create I have elected one. When sense from spirit files away, And subterfuge is done; When that which is and that which wasApart, intrinsic, stand,And this brief tragedy of flesh Is shifted like a sand; When figures show their royal front And mists are carved away,—Behold the atom I preferred To all the lists of clay! De las almas creadasDe las almas creadassupe escoger la mía.Cuando parta el espírituy se apague la vida,y sean Hoy y Ayercomo fuego y ceniza,y acabe de la carnela tragedia mezquina,y hacia la Altura vuelvantodos la frente viva,y se rasgue la bruma...yo diré: Ved la chispay el luminoso átomoque preferí a la arcilla. Versión de Carlos López Narváez
By: Poemas en ingles
Emily Dickinson -I took my power in my hand-
2006-01-15 03:44:00 I took my power in my handEmily Dickinson (1830-1886)I took my power in my hand.And went against the world;'T was not so much as David had,But I was twice as bold.I aimed my pebble, but myselfWas all the one that fell.Was it Goliath was too large,Or only I too small?Poder discrecional tuve en mi manoPoder discrecional tuve en mi manoy con denuedo contra el mundo fui;dos veces temeraria lo he afrontadotan sólo con la honda de David. Aunque la piedra le arrojé segurafui sólo yo la que me desplomé :¿de Goljat fue muy grande la estaturao quizá fue mayor mi pequeñez?
By: Poemas en ingles
Emily Dickinson -Where ships of purple gently toss-
2006-01-15 03:42:00 Where ships of purple gently tossEmily Dickinson (1830-1886)Where ships of purple gently tossOn seas of daffodil,Fantastic sailors mingle,And then--the wharf is still.Velámenes de púrpura se mecenVelámenes de púrpura se mecencon suavidad en mares de narciso;marineros fantásticos se esfumany queda el muelle en la quietud sumido. Versión de Carlos López Narváez
By: Poemas en ingles
Emily Dickinson -I never saw a moor-
2006-01-15 03:40:00 I never saw a moorEmily Dickinson (1830-1886)I never saw a moor, I never saw the sea; Yet know I how the heather looks, And what a wave must be. I never spoke with God, Nor visited in heaven; Yet certain am I of the spot As if the chart were given. Yo jamás he visto un yermoYo jamás he visto un yermoy el mar nunca llegué a verpero he visto los ojos de los brezosy sé lo que las olas deben ser. Con Dios jamás he habladoni lo visité en el Cielo,pero segura estoy de a dónde viajocual si me hubieran dado el derrotero.
By: Poemas en ingles
Emily Dickinson -The luxury to apprehend-
2006-01-15 03:38:00 The luxury to apprehendEmily Dickinson (1830-1886)The luxury to apprehendThe luxury ’t would beTo look at thee a single time,An Epicure of me,In whatsoever Presence, makes,Till, for a further foodI scarcely recollect to starve,So first am I supplied.The luxury to meditateThe luxury it wasTo banquet on thy Countenance,A sumptuousness bestowsOn plainer days,Whose table, far asCertainty can see,Is laden with a single crumb—The consciousness of Thee.El lujo de entenderEl lujo de entenderel lujo seríade mirarte una sola vezy volverme un Epicuro cualquiera de tus presencias sirvede futuro alimentoapenas recuerdo haber muerto de hambre tan bien surtida estaba -el lujo de meditarel lujo eradarme el festín de tu semblanteotorga suntuosidad en días habituales, cuya lejana mesacomo la certidumbre recuerdaestá puesta con una sola migajala conciencia de ti.
By: Poemas en ingles
Emily Dickinson -My Life had stood -a Loaded Gun--
2006-01-15 03:36:00 My Life had stood--a Loaded Gun--Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)My Life had stood--a Loaded Gun-- In Corners--till a Day The Owner passed--identified-- And carried Me away-- And now We roam in Sovereign Woods-- And now We hunt the Doe-- And every time I speak for Him-- The Mountains straight reply-- And do I smile, such cordial light Upon the Valley glow-- It is as a Vesuvian face Had let its pleasure through-- And when at Night--Our good Day done-- I guard My Master's Head-- 'Tis better than the Eider-Duck's Deep Pillow--to have shared-- To foe of His--I'm deadly foe-- None stir the second time-- On whom I lay a Yellow Eye-- Or an emphatic Thumb-- Though I than He--may longer live He longer must--than I-- For I have but the power to kill, Without--the power to die-- Mi vida se había parado -un Arma Cargada- Mi vida se había parado -un Arma Cargada- en los Rincones -hasta que un día el Dueño pasó -me identificó- y me llevó lejos-Y ahora vagamos por Bosques Sober...
By: Poemas en ingles
Emily Dickinson -I held a jewel in my fingers-
2006-01-15 03:34:00 I held a jewel in my fingersEmily Dickinson (1830-1886)I held a jewel in my fingersAnd went to sleep.The day was warm, and winds were prosy;I said: “Twill keep.”I woke and chid my honest fingers,—The gem was gone;And now an amethyst remembranceIs all I own.En mi dedo tenía una sortijaEn mi dedo tenía una sortija. La brisa entre los árboles erraba.El día estaba azul, cálido, bello.Y me quedé dormida sobre la suave hierba.Al despertar miré sobresaltadaMi mano pura en aquella tarde clara.La sortija entre mis dedos ya no estaba.Cuanto poseo ahora en este mundoEs sólo un recuerdo de color dorado.
By: Poemas en ingles
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