complete lijst met vertalingen
Hieronder links naar de eerste 58:
A great hope fell
A light exists in spring
A thought went up my mind today
A wife at daybreak I shall be
After great pain a formal feeling comes
Again his voice is at the door
Because I could not stop for Death
He fumbles at your soul
Heart! We will forget him!
Heaven has different signs to me
Her final summer was it
Hope is the thing with feathers
I came to buy a smile today
I cannot live with you
I cannot meet the spring unmoved
I died for beauty, but was scarce
I dwell in possibility
I envy seas whereon he rides
I felt a cleaving in my mind
I felt a funeral in my brain
I had a guinea golden
I had been hungry
I had no time to hate, because
I measure every grief I meet
I never saw a moor
I shall not murmur if at last
I sing to use the waiting
I thought the train would never come
I was the slightest in the house
I'll tell you how the sun rose
I'm nobody! Who are you?
I'm "wife" - I've finished that
If I can stop one heart from breaking
If I shouldn't be alive
If you were coming in the fall
It ceased to hurt me, though so slow
It's all I have to bring today
Much madness is divinest sense
My life had stood a loaded gun
Pain has an element of blank
Presentiment is that long shadow on the lawn
Rearrange a wife's affection
Remorse is memory awake
Success is counted sweetest
Tell all the truth but tell it slant
The first day's night had come
The grass so little has to do
The morns are meeker than they were
The soul should always stand ajar
The wind tapped like a tired man
There's a certain slant of light
They might not need me - yet they might
This is my letter to the world
To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee
Too scanty twas to die for you
While we were fearing it, it came
You love me - you are sure
You said that I was great one day
Hoop is dat veren voorwerp
Dat neerstrijkt in de ziel
Er wijsjes zonder woorden zingt
En nooit valt hij er stil
Hoe hard de wind ook waaien zal
Hoe hevig ook de storm
Hij die zovelen warmte biedt
Dat vogeltje houdt vol
Het klonk zelfs in het koudste land
En in het verste oord
Toch vroeg het mij in grote nood
Nog nooit om kruimels brood
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.
Het copyright van de oorspronkelijke song berust bij de tekstschrijver.