Emigdi Subirats i Sebastià

Ode to Jane Austen
In quiet halls where whispers thread,
Your words like silver softly spread.
With keenest eye, you traced the heart,
In drawing rooms where fates depart.
The dance of manners, love, and wit,
In every line, a soul is lit.
Through Regency streets your stories glide,
Where pride and reason walk side by side.
Oh Jane, your pen, a gentle flame,
That calls us all by proper name.
In every smile, in every tear,
Your timeless voice remains so near.
Though centuries have passed away,
Your novels bloom like flowers in May.
A mirror to the human mind,
In Austen’s world, all hearts we find.

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