As nimste swolchjes yn
Fol singeliere heimenis
Fan Hillichnachtmielswyn
Dy’t asto priuwst sa frij is
Mei sa’n gemiensumheid
Datst gjin idee hast fan syn priis -
En eksklusiviteit
Your thoughts dont have words every day
They come a single time
Like signal esoteric sips
Of the communion Wine
Which while you taste so free seems
So affable so to be
You cannot comprehend it’s price -
Nor it’s infrequency
F1476 (J1452). Ofbylding: Amherst College Library, Emily Dickinson Collection, 537.
