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Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886 / Amherst / Massachusetts)
Poems by Emily Dickinson : 346 / 1232
Hope Is The Thing With Feathers - Poem by Emily Dickinson
'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.
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Read poems about / on: hope, sea
Poem Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003
Poem Edited: Tuesday, September 15, 2015
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Keep on hoping, you lazy bums
keep on warming your hearts
thinking of lovers, riches, luxuries
keep on waiting for your prince
charming who never comes
Except once in a billion trillion times
you may win a lottery and the prince
may mistakenly stumble on your door
and you hold him in your arms
thinking as your own, foolishly,
Keep on dreaming, hoping
Like the Emily's little Bird
it will cost you nothing.
You dreamers, lazy bums. (Report) Reply
Hope is the bridge needed to move from the past to our future. As the poetess said Hope is the thing with feathers. The hope we possess will take us over on its wings. A beautiful poem in deed. (Report) Reply
Emily Dickinson was in many respects a dark and Gothic poet. The more you study her, the more you see a cognitive genius thinking through complex issues with originality and insight. This poem on the bird of hope seems to be more optimistic than many of her works, but I think we should proceed with caution. Hope never stops at all and constantly sings to us but is it really just diverting us from things we don't want to think about. I think. It is important to notice what hope cannot achieve, and that is solving our problems. You need to probe the subtext of this poem to see it is positive than it seems. (Report) Reply
Inspiring and so uplifting. (Report) Reply
I've heard it in the chillest land—
And on the strangest Sea—
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb—of Me.
Nice poem.
10 (Report) Reply
Deserves a serious wow (Report) Reply
hmmmm, hope is feather to the birds (Report) Reply
Beautiful rhetorical masterpiece. (Report) Reply
books in hell are small, blank, metal and hot. there is no knowledge at all in that place. in heaven there are books and records galore and there is no end to them...: D (Report) Reply
In Hope the poetess feeds us crumbs but ah so tasty. (Report) Reply
That the very first line'hope is a thing with feathers'. (Report) Reply
ترجمة بليغ حمدي لهذا النـصِّ الشعـريِّ
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مُقِـيْـمٌ على دوْحَـةِ الـرُّوحِ طيْـرٌ دائِـمُ الشَّــدْوِ هُــوَ الأمَـلُ
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يبُـثُّ اللحْـنَ مِن غيـرِ حَـرْفِ مَا كَـلَّ يَوْماً وَلا مَسَّــهُ المَـللُ
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مَا ازدَادَت الـرِّيـحُ عَـصْـفــاً بـأيْـكِــهِ
إلا زادَهَـا طيْـرُ الأمَـالِ عَــزْفـاً مَـا لِـرَوْعَـةِ عُـذُوبـتِهِ مَـثَـلُ
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وَيْحَ رِيْحٍ غَشُومٍ جَهِلَتْ عَلى فرْخِ طيْرٍ
كـمْ أدْفـأَ جـرْحَ اليائـسِـينَ فـإذا الـجَـرْحُ مِـن شــدْوِهِ يَـنـدَمِـلُ
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بأرْضِ الزمْهَـرِيـرِ وبالبحْـرِ اللجّـيِّ قد سَمِعْـتُ شـدْوَهُ يَنهَمِلُ
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بَـذْلاً مِنهُ عـنْ طِيـبِ نفــسٍ لـمْ يَستجْـدِ أجْـرَاً لِـقـاءَ مَا يَنْـبَـذِلُ
◘♫◘ ترجمة بـلـيْـغ حـمْـدي ◘♫◘ (Report) Reply
ترجمة بليغ حمدي لهذا النـصِّ الشعـريِّ
↕
↕
مُقِـيْـمٌ على دوْحَـةِ الـرُّوحِ طيْـرٌ دائِـمُ الشَّــدْوِ هُــوَ الأمَـلُ
♫
يبُـثُّ اللحْـنَ مِن غيـرِ حَـرْفِ مَا كَـلَّ يَوْماً وَلا مَسَّــهُ المَـللُ
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مَا ازدَادَت الـرِّيـحُ عَـصْـفــاً بـأيْـكِــهِ
إلا زادَهَـا طيْـرُ الأمَـالِ عَــزْفـاً مَـا لِـرَوْعَـةِ عُـذُوبـتِهِ مَـثَـلُ
♫
وَيْحَ رِيْحٍ غَشُومٍ جَهِلَتْ عَلى فرْخِ طيْرٍ
كـمْ أدْفـأَ جـرْحَ اليائـسِـينَ فـإذا الـجَـرْحُ مِـن شــدْوِهِ يَـنـدَمِـلُ
__________________
بأرْضِ الزمْهَـرِيـرِ وبالبحْـرِ اللجّـيِّ قد سَمِعْـتُ شـدْوَهُ يَنهَمِلُ
♫
بَـذْلاً مِنهُ عـنْ طِيـبِ نفــسٍ لـمْ يَستجْـدِ أجْـرَاً لِـقـاءَ مَا يَنْـبَـذِلُ
◘♫◘ ترجمة بـلـيْـغ حـمْـدي ◘♫◘ (Report) Reply
when do we stop reading in heaven or hell? for us to continually cherish the earth is to keep the hope of reading alive (Report) Reply
nice poem.i like it.it is good (Report) Reply
True. Beautiful poem.............. (Report) Reply
She is comparing hope with a bird.Hope provides us with required zest for life.Hope, like bird song, is non-verbal,
even non-verbal reasoning(in tune) .Have hope, have confidence, victory will be yours. Good personnel counselling, It never stops singing.Never stop hoping, a good counsel.Hope perches in the soul, she says. More disadvantageous is the life situation, gale and strom for the bird, sweetest sing th e hope-bird.she says.But never demands anything in return. One can keep on hoping without spending time, energy and money.
It is good advice.For rich people life is sometimes disadvantageous.For poor, it becomes irreversibly bad and hope against hope. (Report) Reply
Hope... Good piece of poetry. Well done! Sylva. (Report) Reply
Nice poem, thanks for sharing so much (Report) Reply
beautiful poem...love your writing (Report) Reply