poems of Emily Dickinson
poems Emily_Dickinson重要_ppt
Because I Could Not Stop for Death
Stanza 1: Death, in the image of a kind gentleman, comes in a carriage for the sake of Immortality and me. Stanza 2: To show my politeness to death, I gave up my work and my enjoyment of life as well; I give up my life. Stanza 3: The journey of our carriage implies the experience of human life; school stands for childhood; the fields of gazing grain, for youth and adulthood; while the setting sun, for old age.
Features of Her Poems
1. subject matter ： love, nature, morality and immortality. The subjects of her poems range among descriptions of love and despair, joy and suffering, and thoughts of death and immortality.
Emily_Dickinson诗歌赏析
①I’m Nobody!我是无名之辈－Emily DickinsonI’m nobody! Who are you?我是无名之辈！你是谁？Are you nobody, too?你也是无名之辈吗？Then there’s a pair of us----don’t tell!那么我们就是一对儿了！千万不要透露出去They’d banish us, you know!不然我们都会被他们驱逐，你知道。
How dreary to be somebody!做一个某某，是多么沉闷无聊How public, like a frog众人像是青蛙To tell your name the livelong day整日地把你谈论啊To an admiring bog!对着他们倾慕的泥沼我是无名之辈艾米莉·狄金森我是无名之辈，你是谁？你，也是，无名之辈？这就凑成一双，别声张！你知道，他们会大肆张扬！做个，显要人物，好不无聊！像个青蛙，向仰慕的泥沼——在整个六月，把个人的姓名聒噪——何等招摇！This poem is Dickinson’s most famous and most defense of the kind of spiritual privacy she favored, implying that to be a Nobody is a luxury incomprehensible to a dreary somebody—for they are too busy keeping their names in circulation. But to be somebody is not as fancy as it seems to be.Emily DickinsonAs you probably noticed when you read this poem, none of the themes that I discussed in the Overview of Dickinson applies to this poem. My list was not meant to cover every topic Dickinson wrote on, nor does every poem she wrote fit neatly into a category.Dickinson adopts the persona of a child who is open, naive, and innocent. However, are the questions asked and the final statement made by this poem naive? If they are not, then the poem is ironic because of the discrepancy between the persona's understanding and view and those of Dickinson and the reader. Under the guise of the child's accepting society's values, is Dickinson really rejecting those values?Is Dickinson suggesting that the true somebody is really the "nobody"? The child-speaker welcomes the person who honestly identifies herself and who has a true identity. These qualities make that person "nobody" in society's eyes. To be "somebody" is to have status in society; society, the majority, excludes or rejects those who lack status or are "nobody"--that is, "they'd banish us" for being nobody.In stanza 2, the child-speaker rejects the role of "somebody" ("How dreary"). The frog comparison depicts "somebody" as self-important and constantly self-promoting. She also shows the false values of a society (the "admiring bog") which approves the frog-somebody. Does the word "bog" (it means wet, spongy ground) have positive or negative connotations? What qualities are associated with the sounds a frog makes (croaking)?Is there satire in this poem?Some readers, who are modest and self-effacing or who lack confidence, feel validated by this poem. Why?②To Make a Prairie…To make a prairieIt takes a clover and one bee,One clover and a bee,And revery.Revery alone will do,If bees are few.去造一个草原张祈试译去造一个草原需要一株三叶草和一只蜜蜂，一株三叶草和一只蜜蜂，还有梦。
艾米莉·狄金森《我为美而死》及诗歌中死亡意象
艾米莉·狄金森《我为美而死》及诗歌中死亡意象艾米莉·狄金森（EmilyDickinson，1830—1886），美国女诗人。
出生于律师家庭，青少年时代生活单调而平静，受正规宗教教育。
20岁开始写诗，早期的诗大都已散失。
从25岁起弃绝社交，女尼似的闭门不出，在孤独中埋头写诗30年，在文学史上被称为“阿默斯特的女尼”，留下诗稿1775首，生前只发表过7首，其余的都是在死后才出版，并被世人所知，名气极大。
狄更生的诗主要写生活情趣，自然、生命、信仰、友谊、爱情。
诗风凝练婉约、意向清新，描绘真切、精微，思想深沉、凝聚力强，极富独创性，被视为20世纪现代主义诗歌的先驱之一。
I Died for BeautyI died for beauty－－but was scarceAdjusted in the TombWhen one who died for Truth，was lainIn the adjoining Room－－He questioned softly“Why I failed?”“For beauty，”I replied－－“And I－－for Truth－－Themself are OneWe Brethren，are，”He said－－And so，as Kinsmen，met a Night－－We talked between the Rooms－－Until the Moss had reached our lips－－And covered up－－our names－－我为美而死去我为美而死——对坟墓几乎，还不适应一个殉真理的烈士就成了我的近邻——他轻声问我“为什么倒下？”我回答他：“为了美”——他说：“我为真理，真与美——是一体，我们是兄弟”——就这样，像亲人，黑夜相逢——我们，隔着房间谈心——直到苍苔长上我们的嘴唇——覆盖掉，我们的姓名——《我为美而死》是女诗人对美与真理关系进行探讨的一首诗。
Emily Dickinson的短诗
Emily Dickinson’s poetry1Because I could not stop for Death,He kindly stopped for me;The carriage held but just ourselvesAnd Immortality.We slowly drove, he knew no haste,And I had put awayMy labor, and my leisure too,For his civility.We passed the school where children played,Their lessons scarcely done;We passed the fields of gazing grain,We passed the setting sun.We paused before a house that seemedA swelling of the ground;The roof was scarcely visible.The cornice but a mound.Since then 'tis centuries but eachFeels shorter than the dayI first surmised the horses' headsWere toward eternity.2Bustle In A House~The bustle in a houseThe morning after deathIs solemnest of industriesEnacted upon earth.The sweeping up the heartAnd putting love awayWe shall not want to use againUntil eternity.3"Hope" is the thing with feathersThat perches in the soulAnd sings the tune without the wordsAnd never stops at all,And sweetest in the gale is heard;And sore must be the stormThat could abash the little birdThat kept so many warm.I've heard it in the chillest landAnd on the strangest sea,Yet never, in extremity,It asked a crumb of me.4"Faith" is a fine inventionFor gentlemen who see,But Microscopes are prudentIn an emergency!5’T is so much joy! ’T is so much joy!If I should fail, what poverty!And yet, as poor as IHave ventured all upon a throw;Have gained! Yes! Hesitated soThis side the victory!Life is but life, and death but death!Bliss is but bliss, and breath but breath!And if, indeed, I fail,At least to know the worst is sweet.Defeat means nothing but defeat,No drearier can prevail!And if I gain,—oh, gun at sea,Oh, bells that in the steeples be,At first repeat it slow!For heaven is a different thingConjectured, and waked sudden in,And might o’erwhelm me so!6It was not death, for I stood up,And all the dead lie down.It was not night, for all the bellsPut out their tongues for noon.It was not frost, for on my fleshI felt siroccos crawl,Nor fire, for just my marble feetCould keep a chancel cool.And yet it tasted like them all,The figures I have seenSet orderly for burialReminded me of mine,As if my life were shavenAnd fitted to a frameAnd could not breathe without a key,And 'twas like midnight, some,When everything that ticked has stoppedAnd space stares all around,Or grisly frosts, first autumn morns,Repeal the beating ground;But most like chaos, stopless, cool,Without a chance, or spar,Or even a report of landTo justify despair.7Success is counted sweetestBy those who ne’er succeed.To comprehend a nectarRequires sorest need.Not one of all the purple hostWho took the flag to-dayCan tell the definition,So clear, of victory,As he, defeated, dying,On whose forbidden earThe distant strains of triumphBreak, agonized and clear8IF I can stop one heart from breaking,I shall not live in vain;If I can ease one life the aching,Or cool one pain,Or help one fainting robinUnto his nest again,I shall not live in vain.9Much madness is divinest senseTo a discerning eye;Much sense the starkest madness.’T i s the majorityIn this, as all, prevails.Assent, and you are sane;Demur,—you ’re straightway dangerous,And handled with a chain.10A wounded deer leaps highest,I've heard the hunter tell;T'is but the ecstasy of death,And then the brake is still.The smitten rock that gushes,The trampled steel that springs:A cheek is always redderJust where the hectic stings!Mirth is the mail of anguish,In which it caution arm,Lest anybody spy the bloodAnd Youre hurt exclaim!11A PRECIOUS, mould eringpleasure ’t isTo meet an antique book,In just the dress his century wore;A privilege, I think,His venerable hand to take,And warming in our own,A passage back, or two, to makeo times when he was young.His quaint opinions to inspect,His knowledge to unfoldOn what concerns our mutual mind,The literature of old;What interested scholars most,What competitions ranWhen Plato was a certainty,And Sophocles a man;When Sappho was a living girl,And Beatrice woreThe gown that Dante deified.Facts, centuries before,He traverses familiar,As one should come to townAnd tell you all your dreams were true:He lived where dreams were born.His presence is enchantment,You beg him not to go;Old volumes shake their vellum headsAnd tantalize, just so.12I 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 numb.And 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 race,Wrecked, solitary, here.- Emily Dickinson13There is no frigate like a bookTo take us lands away,Nor any coursers like a pageOf prancing poetry.This traverse may the poorest takeWithout oppress of toll;How frugal is the chariotThat bears a human soul!14XVITO fight aloud is very brave,But gallanter, I know,Who charge within the bosom,The cavalry of woe.Who win, and nations do not see,Who fall, and none observe,Whose dying eyes no countryRegards with patriot love.We trust, in plumed procession,For such the angels go,Rank after rank, with even feetAnd uniforms of snow.15I taste a liquor never brewed,From tankards scooped in pearl;Not all the vats upon the RhineYield such an alcohol!Inebriate of air am I,And debauchee of dew,Reeling, through endless summer days,From inns of molten blue.When landlords turn the drunken beeOut of the foxglove's door,When butterflies renounce their drams,I shall but drink the more!Till seraphs swing their snowy hats,And saints to windows run,To see the little tipplerLeaning against the sun!16Who never lost, are unpreparedA Coronet to find!Who never thirstedFlagons, and Cooling Tamarind!Who never climbed the weary league—Can such a foot exploreThe purple territoriesOn Pizarro's shore?How many Legions overcome—The Emperor will say?How many Colors takenOn Revolution Day?How many Bullets bearest?Hast Thou the Royal scar?Angels! Write "Promoted"On this Soldier's brow!17Dare you see a Soul at the White Heat?Then crouch within the door --Red -- is the Fire's common tint --But when the vivid OreHas vanquished Flame's conditions,It quivers from the ForgeWithout a color, but the lightOf unanointed Blaze.Least Village has its BlacksmithWhose Anvil's even ringStands symbol for the finer ForgeThat soundless tugs -- within --Refining these impatient OresWith Hammer, and with BlazeUntil the Designated LightRepudiate the Forge –18I can wade Grief—Whole Pools of it—I'm used to that—But the least push of JoyBreaks up my feet—And I tip—drunken—Let no Pebble—smile—'Twas the New Liquor—That was all!Power is only Pain—Stranded, thro' Discipline,Till Weights—will hang—Give Balm—to Giants—And they'll wilt, like Men—Give Himmaleh—They'll Carry—Him!19For each ecstatic instantWe must an anguish payIn keen and quivering rationTo the ecstasy.For each beloved hourSharp pittances of years—Bitter contested farthings—And Coffers heaped with Tears!20The only news I knowIs bulletins all dayFrom immortality:The only shows I seeTomorrow and today.Perchance eternity.The only one I meetIs God, the only streetExistence; this traversed.If other news there beOr admirabler show,I’ll tell it you.21Wild nights! Wild nights!Were I with thee,Wild nights should beOur luxury!Futile the windsTo a heart in port,Done with the compass,Done with the chart.Rowing in Eden!Ah! the sea!Might I but moorTo-night in thee!22My life closed twice before its close;It yet remains to seeIf Immortality unveilA third event to me,So huge, so hopeless to conceive,As these that twice befell.Parting is all we know of heaven,And all we need of hell23Empty my Heart, of Thee --Its single Artery --Begin, and leave Thee out --Simply Extinction's Date --Much Billow hath the Sea --One Baltic -- They --Subtract Thyself, in play,And not enough of meIs left -- to put away --"Myself" meanth Thee --Erase the Root -- no Tree --Thee -- then -- no me --The Heavens stripped --Eternity's vast pocket, picked --24I know that He exists.Somewhere -- in Silence --He has hid his rare lifeFrom our gross eyes.'Tis an instant's play.'Tis a fond Ambush --Just to make BlissEarn her own surprise!But -- should the playProve piercing earnest --Should the glee -- glaze --In Death's -- stiff -- stare --Would not the funLook too expensive!Would not the jest --Have crawled too far!25Behind Me -- dips Eternity --Before Me -- Immortality --Myself -- the Term between --Death but the Drift of Eastern Gray,Dissolving into Dawn away,Before the West begin --'Tis Kingdoms -- afterward -- they say --In perfect -- pauseless Monarchy --Whose Prince -- is Son of None --Himself -- His Dateless Dynasty --Himself -- Himself diversify --In Duplicate divine --'Tis Miracle before Me -- then --'Tis Miracle behind -- between --A Crescent in the Sea --With Midnight to the North of Her --And Midnight to the South of Her --And Maelstrom -- in the Sky --26Let Us play Yesterday --I -- the Girl at school --You -- and Eternity -- theUntold Tale --Easing my famineAt my Lexicon --Logarithm -- had I -- for Drink --'Twas a dry Wine --Somewhat different -- must be --Dreams tint the Sleep --Cunning Reds of MorningMake the Blind -- leap --Still at the Egg-life --Chafing the Shell --When you troubled the Ellipse --And the Bird fell --Manacles be dim -- they say --To the new Free --Liberty -- Commoner --Never could -- to me --'Twas my last gratitudeWhen I slept -- at night --'Twas the first MiracleLet in -- with Light --Can the Lark resume the Shell --Easier -- for the Sky --Wouldn't Bonds hurt moreThan Yesterday?Wouldn't Dungeons sorer frateOn the Man -- free --Just long enough to taste --Then -- doomed new --God of the ManacleAs of the Free --Take not my LibertyAway from Me --27I died for beauty, but was scarceAdjusted in the tomb,When one who died for truth was lainIn an adjoining room.He questioned softly why I failed?"For beauty," I replied."And I for truth,--the two are one;We brethren are," he said.And so, as kinsmen met a night,We talked between the rooms.Until the moss had reached our lips,And covered up our names.28I SHALL know why, when time is over,And I have ceased to wonder why;Christ will explain each separate anguishIn the fair schoolroom of the sky.He will tell me what Peter promised,And I, for wonder at his woe,I shall forget the drop of anguishThat scalds me now, that scalds me now.29I shall keep singing!I shall keep singing!Birds will pass meOn their way to Yellower Climes --Each -- with a Robin's expectation --I -- with my Redbreast --And my Rhymes --Late -- when I take my place in summer --But -- I shall bring a fuller tune --Vespers -- are sweeter than Matins -- Signor --Morning -- only the seed of Noon --30LET down the bars, O Death!The tired flocks come inWhose bleating ceases to repeat,Whose wandering is done.Thine is the stillest night,Thine the securest fold;Too near thou art for seeking thee,Too tender to be told.31GOING to heaven!I don’t know when,Pray do not ask me how,—Indeed, I ’m too astonishedTo think of answering you!Going to heaven!—How dim it sounds!And yet it will be doneAs sure as flocks go home at nightUnto the shepherd’s arm!Perhaps you ’re going too!Who knows?If you should get there first,Save just a little place for meClose to the two I lost!The smallest “robe” will fit me,And just a bit of “crown”;For you know we do not mind our dressWhen we are going home.I ’m glad I don’t believe it,For it would stop my breath,And I ’d like to look a little moreAt such a curious earth!I am glad they did believe itWhom I have never foundSince the mighty autumn afternoonI left them in the ground.32I READ my sentence steadily,Reviewed it with my eyes,To see that I made no mistakeIn its extremest clause,—The date, and manner of the shame;And then the pious formThat “God have mercy” on the soulThe jury voted him.I made my soul familiarWith her extremity,That at the last it should not beA novel agony,But she and Death, acquainted,Meet tranquilly as friends,Salute and pass without a hintAnd there the matter ends.33THEY dropped like flakes, they dropped like stars,Like petals from a rose,When suddenly across the JuneA wind with fingers goes.They perished in the seamless grass,No eye could find the place;But God on his repealless listCan summon every face.。
狄金森Emily Dickinson重要作品介绍
我们隔墙倾谈 Until the moss had reached our lips,
直到苍苔爬上我们的唇际
And covered up our names. 掩没掉我们的姓名。
——艾米丽·狄金森
"Beauty is Truth, Truth Beauty”
“Death as just a part of life, which is the eternal life”
The Poetry of Emily Dickinson read by
Laura Lee Parrotti In RealAudio
poems of Emily Dickinson
·《因为我不能等待死神》 Because I Could Not Stop for Death ·《我是无名小卒！你是谁！》
I'm Nobody. Who Are You？
·《这是我给世界的一封信》 This is My Letter to the World ·《我死时听到一只苍蝇叫》 I Heard a Fly Buzz When I Died ·《我为美而死》 I Died for Beauty
• Poetry books: Poems, Series 1 Poems, Series 2 Poems, Series 3
Theme：
Religion & Faith
Life & Death Beauty & Truth Love & Marriage Nature Friendship Time & Eternity
Emily Dickinson’s poems
Emily Dickinson’s poems712Because I could not stop for Death—He kindly stopped for me—The Carriage held but just Ourselves—And Immortality.We slowly drove—He knew no hasteAnd I had put awayMy labor and my leisure too,For His Civility—We passed the School, where Children strove At Recess—in the Ring—We passed the fields of Gazing Grain—We passed the Setting Sun—Or rather—He passed Us—The Dews drew quivering and chill—For only Gossamer, my Gown—My Tippet—only Tulle—We paused before a House that seemedA Swelling of the Ground—The Roof was scarcely visible—The Cornice—in the Ground—Since then—'tis Centuries—and yetFeels shorter than the DayI first surmised the Horses' HeadsWere toward Eternity—241I like a look of Agony,Because I know it’s true —Men do not sham Convulsion.Nor simulate, a Throe —The Eyes glaze once —and that is Death —Impossible to feignThe Beads upon the ForeheadBy homely Anguish strung. 449I died for Beauty —but was scarce Adjusted in the TombWhen One who died for Truth, was lainIn an adjoining Room —He questioned softly ―Why I failed‖?―For Beauty,‖ I replied —―And I —for Truth —Themselves are One —We Brethren, are,‖ He said —And so, as Kinsmen, met a Night —We talked between the Rooms —Until the Moss had reached our lips —And covered up —our names —465I heard a Fly buzz -- when I died –The Stillness in the RoomWas like the Stillness in the Air –Between the Heaves of Storm –The Eyes around -- had wrung them dry –And Breaths were gathering firmFor that last Onset -- when the KingBe witnessed -- in the Room –I willed my Keepsakes--Signed awayWhat portion of me beAssignable -- and then it wasThere interposed a Fly –With Blue -- uncertain stumbling Buzz –Between the light -- and me –And then the Windows failed -- and thenI could not see to see –。
狄金森Emily_Dickinson重要作品介绍
Emily Dickinson（1830~1886）Poetic Period•more than 1775 poems through out her life.•Best work（climax）was written in the four years period(1858 -1862 ).•Poetry books:Poems, Series 1Poems, Series 2Poems, Series 3Theme ：Religion & Faith Life & Death Beauty & Truth Love & Marriage Nature Friendship Time & Eternityfeatures of Dickinson’s writing1. stanza form2. rhyme3. imagery and Figurativelanguage4. pause5. shortPoetry of Emily Dickinson(1955)《艾米莉·狄金森诗集》poems of Emily Dickinson ·《因为我不能等待死神》Because I Could Not Stop for Death·《我是无名小卒！你是谁！》I'm Nobody. Who Are You？·《这是我给世界的一封信》This is My Letter to the World·《我死时听到一只苍蝇叫》I Heard a Fly Buzz When I Died·《我为美而死》I Died for BeautyI Died for Beauty我为美而死I died for beauty but was scarce我为美而死，却还不曾Adjusted in the tomb,在墓中安息，When one who died for truth was lain 又来了一位为真理而死的人In an a djoining room.栖身在我的隔壁。
诗文本狄金森的名诗
诗文本狄金森的名诗|诗文本|狄金森的名诗佚名翻译艾米莉·狄金森(Emily Dickinson)(1830～1886) ，为美国隐士女诗人，生前写过一千七百多首令人耳目一新的短诗，却不为人知，死后名声大噪。
她诗风独特，以文字细腻、观察敏锐、意象突出著称。
题材方面多半是自然、死亡、和永生。
艾米莉·狄金森(1830-1892)生前默默无闻，只公开发表10首诗，还有一说是7首，不管怎样，她生前发表的不到她诗作的(现存她诗作1775篇)百分之一。
然而现在她被推崇为与惠特曼齐名的美国一流诗人，并且被20世纪美国意象派诗人视为先驱，开创了20世纪现代主义诗歌的先河。
布鲁姆在《西方正典》中这样评价狄金森在文学史上的地位：“除了莎士比亚，狄金森是但丁以来西方诗人中显示了最多认知原创性的作家。
”在纽约圣约翰教堂的诗人角，美国人献给狄金森的铭文是：“啊，杰出的艾米莉·狄金森!”即使在日常生活中，她也是默默无闻的。
她25岁开始便弃绝社交，足不出户，家务劳动之余埋头写诗。
30岁之后，这种倾向越来越严重，患了“自闭症”。
她喜欢穿白色的衣服，她不愿接待大多数来访的客人，甚至不到隔壁的哥哥家去拜访，她被称为“艾默斯特修女”。
以至于当希金森来访，她不知道说什么，话语断断续续，像孩子一样。
她是一个十足的家庭妇女，她是父亲的面包师，是她缠绵病榻母亲的护士。
有诗为证，她写道：“如果你能在秋季来到，／我会用掸子把夏天掸掉／一半轻蔑，一半含笑，／像管家妇把苍蝇赶跑。
”(江枫译，下同)这个比喻显然来自她平日的家庭劳动。
据其他文章介绍，她当时只不过是镇上一名没有任何名气的独身女子。
一封寄给“狄金森小姐”的信要辗转送到几个狄金森小姐之手，发现都不是写给她们的之后，邮政局长才让人把信交给艾米莉，并且嘱咐说如果不是写给她的，请立即退还。
她甚至写诗《我是无名之辈，你是谁》，在他们中间寻求知音。
1862年，她32岁(这一年也是她创作欲最旺盛的一年，她写了366首诗)，艾米莉从《大西洋月刊》杂志上读到希金森(1823-1911)的一篇文章，在文中他阐明：“发掘天才是编辑的天职”等观点，并教导青年作家“将生命的热情注入写作风格……让多年的热情溶入一个词汇中，把半辈子的生活积蓄写在一个句子里。
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328
A Bird came down the Walk –
He did not know I saw –
He bit an Angleworm in halves
And ate the fellow, raw,
And then he drank a Dew
From a convenient Grass –
And then hopped sidewise to the Wall
To let a Beetle pass –
He glanced with rapid eyes
That hurried all around –
They looked like frightened Beads, I thought –He stirred his Velvet Head
Like one in danger, Cautious,
I offered him a Crumb
And he unrolled his feathers
And rowed him softer home –
Than Oars divide the Ocean,
Too silver for a seam –
Or Butterflies, off Banks of Noon
Leap, plashless as they swim.
712
Because I could not stop for Death –
He kindly stopped for me –
The Carriage held but just Ourselves –
And Immortality.
We slowly drove – He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility –
We passed the School, where Children strove
At Recess – in the Ring –
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain –We passed the Setting Sun –
Or rather – He passed us –
The Dews drew quivering and chill –For only Gossamer, my Gown –
My Tippet – only Tulle –
We paused before a House that seemed A Swelling of the Ground –
The Roof was scarcely visible –
The Cornice – in the Ground –
Since then – 'tis Centuries – and yet Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses' Heads Were toward Eternity –
465
I heard a Fly buzz – when I died –
The Stillness in the Room
Was like the Stillness in the Air –Between the Heaves of Storm –
The Eyes around – had wrung them dry –And Breaths were gathering firm
For that last Onset – when the King
Be witnessed – in the Room –
I willed my Keepsakes – Signed away What portions of me be
Assignable – and then it was
There interposed a Fly –
With Blue – uncertain stumbling Buzz –Between the light – and me –
And then the Windows failed – and then I could not see to see –。