Os dois poemas da minha confusão

1.
inscription for the ceiling of a bedroom

daily dawns another day;
I must up, to make my way.
though I dress and drink and eat,
move my fingers and my feet,
learn a little, here and there,
weep and laugh and sweat and swear,
hear a song, or watch a stage,
leave some words upon a page,
claim a foe, or hail a friend-
bed awaits me at the end.
though I go in pride and strength,
I'll come back to bed at length.
though I walk in blinded woe,
back to bed I'm bound to go.
high my heart, or bowed my head,
all my days but lead to bed.
up, and out, and on; and then
ever back to bed again,
Summer, Winter, Spring, and Fall-
I'm a fool to rise at all!

Dorothy Parker

2.
a book

there is no frigate like a book
to take us lands away,
nor any coursers like a page
of prancing poetry.
this traverse may the poorest take
without oppress of toll;
how frugal is the chariot
that bears a human soul!

Emily Dickinson

e daqui se depreende que gosto de ler e de dormir...

Raquel Patriarca