EDJE is an ongoing experiment in a mode of criticism that, instead of an explication of a text, offers something closer to a translation, or transformation, or reply to it.
The left column gives poems by Emily Dickinson, numbered according to R. W. Franklin’s edition of The Poems of Emily Dickinson (Harvard 1998). The right column is by me. To learn more about the project, click here.
150 Like her, the Saints retire, In their Chapeaux of fire-- Martial as she! Like her the evenings steal Purple and Cochineal After the Day! "Departed"--both--they say! i.e. gathered away, Not found, Argues the Aster still-- Reasons the Daffodil Profound!
Sometimes the riddle is a Tonka toy. Sometimes a head on fire. The royal robes are always Bespattered with the carmine Of the tiny squashed bugs. To be gathered away Is a wondrous thing: Never to be found, Save by the motionless flower Dug deep in winter soil, Philosophizing.