How good it is - this Lava Bed,
For this hard-working Boy -
Who must awake to wake the World
And Dress this Drowsy Day.
- e. dickinson, aprés claire malroux, transl by cjwm

By fevered Days - Driven to Forest
Or to the Running Water - cool among mosses -
and nothing - save shadows - Ravage the Silence.
Sometimes it seems - that's all there is.

- e. dickinson, aprés claire malroux, transl by cjwm

The fruit defends its flavour
which the Orchard's rule maligns
How succulent within the Pod -
The Pea to its Work Resigned.

- e. dickinson, aprés claire malroux, transl by cjwm

See the Summer Sky -
Poems ought not within books lie -
Real Poems Fly.
- e. dickinson, aprés claire malroux,
transl by cjwm with an assist from m.l.