To the bright east she flies, by Emily Dickinson

Она летит в зарю,
собратья в дом, в Раю,
прощая, ждут
без смены крыл при ней,
гостинцев без затей,
лишь с тягой в путь.

Её живя,- в делах,-
мы, меря, кем была,
жизнь видим сном,-         
в нём растворяться дням,         
где бродит жизнь, одна,   
без дома - в нём.         





(Эмили - о матери, в письме к Марии Уитни.)
[David Preest:
Emily and Vinnie had grown closer to their mother during
her last illness of 1881-2. As Emily said in a letter (L792)
to Mrs Holland, ‘We were never intimate Mother and Children
while she was our mother – but Mines in the same Ground meet
by tunnelling and when she became our Child, the Affection came.’
Their mother died on 14 November 1882. Emily wrote (L779)
of it to Mrs Holland, ‘After a restless Night, complaining
of great weariness, she was lifted earlier than usual from
her Bed to her Chair, when a few quick breaths and a
‘Don’t leave me, Vinnie’ and her sweet being closed.’
In the following spring Emily wrote a letter (L815) to
Maria Whitney about her mother’s death. The letter includes
poem 1573. Emily leads up to it with the words,
‘All is faint indeed without our vanished mother, who
achieved in sweetness what she lost in strength, though
grief of wonder at her fate made the winter short,
and each night I reach finds my lungs more breathless,
seeking what it means.’]

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To the bright east she flies, by Emily Dickinson

To the bright east she flies,         
Brothers of Paradise               
Remit her home,               
Without a change of wings,            
Or Love's convenient things,         
Enticed to come.               

Fashioning what she is,               
Fathoming what she was,               
We deem we dream --               
And that dissolves the days               
Through which existence strays             
Homeless at home.