Hope is the thing with feathers
  ---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.
希望长着羽毛
栖在灵魂里,
唱着无词的乐曲
从来不停息
风越大声越甜
寻常的风暴
休想嚇到这双
温暖众生的小鸟.
我曾听她在最寒带,
最陌生的海上;
却从不因为潦倒,
向我乞讨丝毫.