Leaves of Grass. Walt Whitman. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Walt Whitman
Издательство: Bookwire
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Жанр произведения: Языкознание
Год издания: 0
isbn: 4057664154187
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Have you outstript the rest? are you the President?

       It is a trifle, they will more than arrive there every one, and

       still pass on.

       I am he that walks with the tender and growing night,

       I call to the earth and sea half-held by the night.

       Press close bare-bosom'd night—press close magnetic nourishing night!

       Night of south winds—night of the large few stars!

       Still nodding night—mad naked summer night.

       Smile O voluptuous cool-breath'd earth!

       Earth of the slumbering and liquid trees!

       Earth of departed sunset—earth of the mountains misty-topt!

       Earth of the vitreous pour of the full moon just tinged with blue!

       Earth of shine and dark mottling the tide of the river!

       Earth of the limpid gray of clouds brighter and clearer for my sake!

       Far-swooping elbow'd earth—rich apple-blossom'd earth!

       Smile, for your lover comes.

       Prodigal, you have given me love—therefore I to you give love!

       O unspeakable passionate love.

       Thruster holding me tight and that I hold tight!

       We hurt each other as the bridegroom and the bride hurt each other.

       22

       You sea! I resign myself to you also—I guess what you mean,

       I behold from the beach your crooked fingers,

       I believe you refuse to go back without feeling of me,

       We must have a turn together, I undress, hurry me out of sight of the land,

       Cushion me soft, rock me in billowy drowse,

       Dash me with amorous wet, I can repay you.

       Sea of stretch'd ground-swells,

       Sea breathing broad and convulsive breaths,

       Sea of the brine of life and of unshovell'd yet always-ready graves,

       Howler and scooper of storms, capricious and dainty sea,

       I am integral with you, I too am of one phase and of all phases.

       Partaker of influx and efflux I, extoller of hate and conciliation,

       Extoller of amies and those that sleep in each others' arms.

       I am he attesting sympathy,

       (Shall I make my list of things in the house and skip the house that

       supports them?)

       I am not the poet of goodness only, I do not decline to be the poet

       of wickedness also.

       What blurt is this about virtue and about vice?

       Evil propels me and reform of evil propels me, I stand indifferent,

       My gait is no fault-finder's or rejecter's gait,

       I moisten the roots of all that has grown.

       Did you fear some scrofula out of the unflagging pregnancy?

       Did you guess the celestial laws are yet to be work'd over and rectified?

       I find one side a balance and the antipedal side a balance,

       Soft doctrine as steady help as stable doctrine,

       Thoughts and deeds of the present our rouse and early start.

       This minute that comes to me over the past decillions,

       There is no better than it and now.

       What behaved well in the past or behaves well to-day is not such wonder,

       The wonder is always and always how there can be a mean man or an infidel.

       23

       Endless unfolding of words of ages!

       And mine a word of the modern, the word En-Masse.

       A word of the faith that never balks,

       Here or henceforward it is all the same to me, I accept Time absolutely.

       It alone is without flaw, it alone rounds and completes all,

       That mystic baffling wonder alone completes all.

       I accept Reality and dare not question it,

       Materialism first and last imbuing.

       Hurrah for positive science! long live exact demonstration!

       Fetch stonecrop mixt with cedar and branches of lilac,

       This is the lexicographer, this the chemist, this made a grammar of

       the old cartouches,

       These mariners put the ship through dangerous unknown seas.

       This is the geologist, this works with the scalper, and this is a

       mathematician.

       Gentlemen, to you the first honors always!

       Your facts are useful, and yet they are not my dwelling,

       I but enter by them to an area of my dwelling.

       Less the reminders of properties told my words,

       And more the reminders they of life untold, and of freedom and extrication,

       And make short account of neuters and geldings, and favor men and

       women fully equipt,

       And beat the gong of revolt, and stop with fugitives and them that

       plot and conspire.

       24

       Walt Whitman, a kosmos, of Manhattan the son,

       Turbulent, fleshy, sensual, eating, drinking and breeding,

       No sentimentalist, no stander above men and women or apart from them,

       No more modest than immodest.

       Unscrew the locks from the doors!

       Unscrew the doors themselves from their jambs!

       Whoever degrades another degrades me,

       And whatever is done or said returns at last to me.

       Through me the afflatus surging and surging, through me the current

       and index.

       I speak the pass-word primeval, I give the sign of democracy,

       By God! I will accept nothing which all cannot have their

       counterpart of on the same terms.

       Through me many long dumb voices,

       Voices of the interminable generations of prisoners and slaves,

       Voices of the diseas'd and despairing and of thieves and dwarfs,

       Voices of cycles of preparation and accretion,

       And of the threads that connect the stars, and of wombs and of the

       father-stuff,

       And of the rights of them the others are down upon,

       Of the deform'd, trivial, flat, foolish, despised,

       Fog in the air, beetles rolling balls of dung.

       Through me forbidden voices,

       Voices of sexes and lusts, voices veil'd and I remove the veil,

       Voices indecent by me clarified and transfigur'd.

       I do not press my fingers across my mouth,

       I keep as delicate around the bowels as around the head and heart,

       Copulation is no more rank to me than death is.

       I believe in the flesh