Emily Dickinson's poem about a burr, a bog and taking offence
A burr clung to my hem.
Is it
To blame for this?
No, the fault is mine: I walked
Where the Villain's house stands.
For the patches of mud on my shoes,
Is the bog worth scolding?
It is able to spew forth
Only Filth,
You wandered in there, so wipe yourself clean!
Offence is the mark of the Small Fry.
If in the gloom you can see nothing at all,
Look to the Horizon!
Literal translation
Emily Dickinson