Так тронул, что живу найти
такой же день, где на груди
брела его душой -
безбрежьем стала для меня,
как океан мой ток смиря,
вобрав ручьём в покой.
Не прежняя, дышу теперь,
вдохнув как будто высших сфер,
край мантии ль задев -
лицо бродяжки, и ступни
бродяжьи - преображены
ко славе тоньших действ...
Ужель, в приютный мне залив,
Ребеккой вплыть в Иерусалим,
восторги поменяв,
не девой Парса, устыдясь
её святынь,- крестом светясь,
восстать к Царю Огня.
(Эмили как абсолют чувственности.
Восприятие плоти - как проявление Высшего Духа.
К этому не придумать иллюстраций, кроме Солнца.
Женщина из мужчины творит себе Бога.
Её Богом и Солнцем был Сэмюэл Боулз.)
[David Preest:
In this poem of tender passion Emily imagines that, having
married her master as in poem 493, she arrives at the harbour
of exchanged sexual passion, which she had longed for in
poems 211, 249 and 368. And, after the passion, she feels
different, somehow royal, her brown, freckled ‘Gypsy face’
transfigured, and her feet set free from their wanderings.
In fact, if she might always come into this port, she would
know a bliss greater even than Rebecca’s, as she travelled
towards Jerusalem for her marriage with Isaac (Genesis 24:63-5),
or greater than some Persian lady, who, having waited ‘baffled
at her shrine’ for her Lord God to show himself, was at last
able to lift to her ‘Imperial Sun’ a ‘Crucifixal sign’ to show
the anguish she had suffered during her long years of waiting.
Emily’s own ‘Imperial Sun’ was Samuel Bowles, as she showed in
poem 106, and for her to lift a ‘Crucifixal sign’ to him may
indicate that through her sexual passion she was committing
herself to a lifelong and eternal marriage with him, as in
their exchange of crucifixes in poem 322, lines 23-4.]
******************************************************
He touched me, so I live to know by Emily Dickinson
He touched me, so I live to know
That such a day, permitted so,
I groped upon his breast --
It was a boundless place to me
And silenced, as the awful sea
Puts minor streams to rest.
And now, I'm different from before,
As if I breathed superior air --
Or brushed a Royal Gown --
My feet, too, that had wandered so --
My Gypsy face -- transfigured now --
To tenderer Renown --
Into this Port, if I might come,
Rebecca, to Jerusalem,
Would not so ravished turn --
Nor Persian, baffled at her shrine
Lift such a Crucifixial sign
To her imperial Sun.