I am reading the poems of Emily Dickinson right now. The poems like: I felt a Funeral, in my Brain, “Much Madness is Divinest Sense.” or I heard a fly buzz when I died.
I found two different biography of E.Dickinson. One writes that her father was a tyrant, another that he was loving father. So I believe neither.
That writing about death doesn seem to me that she longs for it, it would be quite simple. It sound like something metaphysics. I do not understand it.
I have no idea how to read these poems, but I would like to understand them.
And write me what are u doing, how are you and how is your little niece. I would like to go to Shangay to see Expo 2010, but it is quite far:)
I am sending you no love, but good slovak beer.
Na zdravie!
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2 comments:
c'est pourquoi nous allons
I think I have understood her and her poems today
Everyday looking at the tombs of her few real death friends
who once were and
now being alone forced her to create her own
microcosmos
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