The Complete Works of Walt Whitman. Walt Whitman. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Walt Whitman
Издательство: Bookwire
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Жанр произведения: Языкознание
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isbn: 4064066058128
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       Table of Contents

      Darest thou now O soul,

      Walk out with me toward the unknown region,

       Where neither ground is for the feet nor any path to follow?

      No map there, nor guide,

       Nor voice sounding, nor touch of human hand,

       Nor face with blooming flesh, nor lips, nor eyes, are in that land.

      I know it not O soul,

       Nor dost thou, all is a blank before us,

       All waits undream’d of in that region, that inaccessible land.

      Till when the ties loosen,

       All but the ties eternal, Time and Space,

       Nor darkness, gravitation, sense, nor any bounds bounding us.

      Then we burst forth, we float,

       In Time and Space O soul, prepared for them,

       Equal, equipt at last, (O joy! O fruit of all!) them to fulfil O soul.

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      Whispers of heavenly death murmur’d I hear,

       Labial gossip of night, sibilant chorals,

       Footsteps gently ascending, mystical breezes wafted soft and low,

       Ripples of unseen rivers, tides of a current flowing, forever flowing,

       (Or is it the plashing of tears? the measureless waters of human tears?)

      I see, just see skyward, great cloud-masses,

       Mournfully slowly they roll, silently swelling and mixing,

       With at times a half-dimm’d sadden’d far-off star,

       Appearing and disappearing.

      (Some parturition rather, some solemn immortal birth;

       On the frontiers to eyes impenetrable,

       Some soul is passing over.)

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      1

       Chanting the square deific, out of the One advancing, out of the sides,

       Out of the old and new, out of the square entirely divine,

       Solid, four-sided, (all the sides needed,) from this side Jehovah am I,

       Old Brahm I, and I Saturnius am;

       Not Time affects me — I am Time, old, modern as any,

       Unpersuadable, relentless, executing righteous judgments,

       As the Earth, the Father, the brown old Kronos, with laws,

       Aged beyond computation, yet never new, ever with those mighty laws rolling,

       Relentless I forgive no man — whoever sins dies — I will have that man’s life;

       Therefore let none expect mercy — have the seasons, gravitation, the

       appointed days, mercy? no more have I,

       But as the seasons and gravitation, and as all the appointed days

       that forgive not,

       I dispense from this side judgments inexorable without the least remorse.

      2

       Consolator most mild, the promis’d one advancing,

       With gentle hand extended, the mightier God am I,

       Foretold by prophets and poets in their most rapt prophecies and poems,

       From this side, lo! the Lord Christ gazes — lo! Hermes I — lo! mine is

       Hercules’ face,

       All sorrow, labor, suffering, I, tallying it, absorb in myself,

       Many times have I been rejected, taunted, put in prison, and

       crucified, and many times shall be again,

       All the world have I given up for my dear brothers’ and sisters’

       sake, for the soul’s sake,

       Wanding my way through the homes of men, rich or poor, with the kiss

       of affection,

       For I am affection, I am the cheer-bringing God, with hope and

       all-enclosing charity,

       With indulgent words as to children, with fresh and sane words, mine only,

       Young and strong I pass knowing well I am destin’d myself to an

       early death;

       But my charity has no death — my wisdom dies not, neither early nor late,

       And my sweet love bequeath’d here and elsewhere never dies.

      3

       Aloof, dissatisfied, plotting revolt,

       Comrade of criminals, brother of slaves,

       Crafty, despised, a drudge, ignorant,

       With sudra face and worn brow, black, but in the depths of my heart,

       proud as any,

       Lifted now and always against whoever scorning assumes to rule me,

       Morose, full of guile, full of reminiscences, brooding, with many wiles,

       (Though it was thought I was baffled, and dispel’d, and my wiles

       done, but that will never be,)

       Defiant, I, Satan, still live, still utter words, in new lands duly

       appearing, (and old ones also,)

       Permanent here from my side, warlike, equal with any, real as any,

       Nor time nor change shall ever change me or my words.

      4

       Santa Spirita, breather, life,

       Beyond the light, lighter than light,

       Beyond the flames of hell, joyous, leaping easily above hell,

       Beyond Paradise, perfumed solely with mine own perfume,

       Including all life on earth, touching, including God, including

       Saviour and Satan,

       Ethereal, pervading all, (for without me what were all? what were God?)

       Essence of forms, life of the real identities, permanent, positive,

       (namely the unseen,)

       Life of the great round world, the sun and stars, and of man, I, the

       general soul,

       Here the square finishing, the solid, I the most solid,

       Breathe my breath also through these songs.

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      Of him I love day and night I dream’d I heard he was dead,

       And I dream’d I went where they had buried him I love, but he was

       not in that place,

       And I dream’d I wander’d searching among burial-places to find him,