Kwimba hoopt…

…op een warme, gezellige, liefdevolle kerst voor jullie allemaal!
“Hope” is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops – at all

 And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm

I’ve heard it in the chillest land
And on the strangest Sea
Yet – never – in Extremity,
It asked a crumb – of me.

Source: The Poems of Emily Dickinson Edited by R. W. Franklin (Harvard University Press, 1999)

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