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Tema: Walt Whitman ~ Volt Vitman  (Pročitano 64772 puta)
23. Sep 2005, 07:16:42
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Capo di tutti capi


Underpromise; overdeliver.

Zodijak Gemini
Pol Muškarac
Poruke Odustao od brojanja
Zastava 44°49′N - 20°29′E
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Apple iPhone 6s
INSCRIPTIONS.
One’s-Self I Sing
As I Ponder’d in Silence
In Cabin’d Ships at Sea
To Foreign Lands
To a Historian
For Him I Sing
When I read the Book
Beginning my Studies
To Thee, Old Cause!
Starting from Paumanok
The Ship Starting
Unfolded Out of the Folds
To You
Walt Whitman
Laws for Creations
Visor’d


CHILDREN OF ADAM.
To the Garden the World
From Pent-up Aching Rivers
I Sing the Body Electric
A Woman Waits for Me
Spontaneous Me
One Hour to Madness and Joy
We Two—How Long We were Fool’d
Out of the Rolling Ocean, the Crowd
Native Moments
Once I Pass’d Through a Populous City
Facing West from California’s Shores
Ages and Ages, Returning at Intervals
O Hymen! O Hymenee!
As Adam, Early in the Morning
I Heard You, Solemn-sweet Pipes of the Organ
I am He that Aches with Love
To Him that was Crucified
Perfections


CALAMUS.
In Paths Untrodden
Scented Herbage of My Breast
Whoever You are, Holding Me now in Hand
These, I, Singing in Spring
A Song
Not Heaving from My Ribb’d Breast Only
Of the Terrible Doubt of Appearances
The Base of all Metaphysics
Recorders Ages Hence
When I heard at the Close of the Day
Are You the New person, drawn toward Me?
Roots and Leaves Themselves Alone
Not Heat Flames up and Consumes
Trickle, Drops
City of Orgies
Behold this Swarthy Face
I saw in Louisiana a Live Oak Growing
To a Stranger
This Moment, Yearning and Thoughtful
I hear it was Charged against Me
The Prairie-Grass Dividing
We Two Boys Together Clinging
A Promise to California
Here the Frailest Leaves of Me
When I peruse the Conquer’d Fame
What think You I take my Pen in Hand?
A Glimpse
No Labor-Saving Machine
A Leaf for Hand in Hand
To the East and to the West
Earth! my Likeness!
I Dream’d in a Dream
Fast Anchor’d, Eternal, O Love
Sometimes with One I Love
That Shadow, my Likeness
Among the Multitude
To a Western Boy
O You Whom I Often and Silently Come
Full of Life, Now
Salut au Monde
A Child’s Amaze
The Runner
Beautiful Women
Mother and Babe
Thought
American Feuillage
Song of the Broad-Axe
Song of the Open Road


LEAVES OF GRASS.
I Sit and Look Out
Me Imperturbe
As I lay with Head in your Lap, Camerado
Crossing Brooklyn Ferry
With Antecedents


THE ANSWERER.
Now List to my Morning’s Romanza
The Indications
Poets to Come
I Hear America Singing
The City Dead-House
A Farm-Picture
Carol of Occupations
Thoughts
The Sleepers
Carol of Words
Ah Poverties, Wincings and Sulky Retreats


LEAVES OF GRASS.
A Boston Ballad, 1854
Year of Meteors, 1859 ’60
A Broadway Pageant
Thought


LEAVES OF GRASS.
There was a Child went Forth
Longings for Home
You Felons on Trial in Courts
To a Common Prostitute
I was Looking a Long While
To a President
To The States


DRUM-TAPS.
Drum-Taps
1861
Beat! Beat! Drums!
From Paumanok Starting
Rise, O Days
City of Ships
The Centenarian’s Story
An Army Corps on the March
Cavalry Crossing a Ford
Bivouac on a Mountain Side
By the Bivouac’s Fitful Flame
Come up from the Fields, Father
Vigil Strange I Kept on the Field
A March in the Ranks, Hard-prest
A Sight in Camp
Not the Pilot
As Toilsome I Wander’d
Year that Trembled
The Dresser
Long, too Long, O Land!
Give me the Splendid, Silent Sun
Dirge for Two Veterans
Over the Carnage
The Artilleryman’s Vision
I saw Old General at Bay
O Tan-faced Prairie Boy
Look Down, Fair Moon
Reconciliation
Spirit whose Work is Done
How Solemn as One by One
Not Youth Pertains to Me
To the Leaven’d Soil They Trod
Delicate Cluster
Sing of the Banner at Day-Break
Ethiopia Saluting the Colors
Lo! Victress on the Peaks
World, Take Good Notice
Thick-Sprinkled Bunting


LEAVES OF GRASS.
Faces
Manhattan Streets I Saunter’d, Pondering
All is Truth
Voices


MARCHES NOW THE WAR IS OVER.
As I Sat Alone by Blue Ontario’s Shores
Pioneers! O Pioneers!
Turn, O Libertad
Adieu to a Soldier
As I Walk These Broad, Majestic Days
Weave in, Weave in, My Hardy Life
Race of Veterans


LEAVES OF GRASS.
This Compost
Unnamed Lands
Mannahatta
Old Ireland
To Oratists
A Hand-Mirror
Germs


LEAVES OF GRASS.
O Me! O Life!
Thoughts
Beginners


SONGS OF INSURRECTION.
Still, though the One I Sing
To a foil’d European Revolutionaire
France, the 18th year of These States
Europe, the 72d and 73d years of These States
Walt Whitman’s Caution
To a Certain Cantatrice


LEAVES OF GRASS.
To You


SONGS OF PARTING.
As the Time Draws Nigh
Years of the Modern
Thoughts
Song at Sunset
When I heard the Learn’d Astronomer
To Rich Givers
So Long
Passage to India
Thought
O Living Always—Always Dying
Proud Music of The Storm


ASHES OF SOLDIERS.
Ashes of Soldiers
In Midnight Sleep
Camps of Green
To a Certain Civilian
Pensive on Her Dead Gazing, I Heard the Mother of All


PRESIDENT LINCOLN’S BURIAL HYMN.
When Lilacs Last in the Door-yard Bloom’d
O Captain! My Captain!
Hush’d be the Camps To-day
This Dust was Once the Man
Poem of Joys
To Think of Time
Chanting the Square Deific


WHISPERS OF HEAVENLY DEATH.
Whispers of Heavenly Death
Darest Thou Now, O Soul
Of Him I Love Day and Night
Assurances
Yet, Yet, Ye Downcast Hours
Quicksand Years
That Music Always Round Me
As if a Phantom Caress’d Me
Here, Sailor
A Noiseless Patient Spider
The Last Invocation
As I Watch’d the Ploughman Ploughing
Pensive and Faltering


SEA-SHORE MEMORIES.
Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking
Elemental Drifts
Tears
Aboard at a Ship’s Helm
On the Beach at Night
The World Below the Brine
On the Beach at Night, Alone


LEAVES OF GRASS.
A Carol of Harvest for 1867
The Singer in the Prison
Warble for Lilac-Time
Who Learns My Lesson Complete?
Thought
Myself and Mine
To Old Age
Miracles
Sparkles from The Wheel
Excelsior
Mediums
Kosmos
To a Pupil
What am I, After All?
Others may Praise what They Like
Brother of All, with Generous Hand
Night on The Prairies
On Journeys Through The States
Savantism
Locations and Times
Thought
Offerings
Tests
The Torch
Gods
To One Shortly to Die
Song of the Exposition
One Song, America, Before I Go
Souvenirs of Democracy
As a Strong Bird on Pinions Free
The Mystic Trumpeter
O Star of France
Virginia—The West
By Broad Potomac’s Shore
Song of the Redwood-Tree
Song of the Universal
Song for All Seas, All Ships
Eidólons
Prayer of Columbus
Spain 1873–’74
Out from Behind this Mask
To a Locomotive in Winter
The Ox Tamer
Wandering at Morn
An Old Man’s Thought of School
With All Thy Gifts
After the Sea-Ship
Thou Reader
To the Man-of-War-Bird
Patroling Barnegat
The Dalliance of the Eagles
Roaming in Thought
Gliding Over All
Hast Never Come to Thee an Hour
As Consequent, Etc.
Italian Music in Dakota
My Picture-Gallery
The Prairie States
A Paumanok Picture
Thou Orb Aloft Full-Dazzling
A Riddle Song
From Far Dakota’s Cañons
What Best I See In Thee
Spirit That Form’d This Scene
A Clear Midnight
As At Thy Portals Also Death
The Sobbing of The Bells


NOW FINALE TO THE SHORE.
Now Finale to the Shore
Shut Not Your Doors, &c.
Thought
The Untold Want
Portals
These Carols
What Place is Besieged?
Joy, Shipmate, Joy!


GATHERED LEAVES.
Apostroph
O Sun of Real Peace
O Bitter Sprig! Confession Sprig!
So Far and So Far, and on Toward the End
In the New Garden in all the Parts
States!
Long I Thought that Knowledge
Hours Continuing Long
Who is now Reading This?
Primeval my Love for the Woman I Love
To You
Of the Visage of Things
Says
Debris
What General has a Good Army
Despairing Cries
One Sweeps By
What Weeping Face
I will Take an Egg Out of the Robin’s Nest
Behavior
I Thought I was not Alone
Inscription
Not My Enemies Ever Invade Me
Great are the Myths
Poem of Remembrance for a Girl or a Boy
Think of the Soul
Respondez!
Solid, Ironical, Rolling Orb
Bathed in War’s Perfume
Thought
Lessons
This Day, O Soul
To the Reader at Parting
Two Rivulets
Or from that Sea of Time
From My Last Years
In Former Songs
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1. One’s-Self I Sing



ONE’S-SELF I sing—a simple, separate Person;       
Yet utter the word Democratic, the word En-masse.       
     
Of Physiology from top to toe I sing;       
Not physiognomy alone, nor brain alone, is worthy for the muse—I say the Form complete is worthier far;       
The Female equally with the male I sing.            5   
     
Of Life immense in passion, pulse, and power,       
Cheerful—for freest action form’d, under the laws divine,       
The Modern Man I sing.
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2. As I Ponder’d in Silence



1

AS I ponder’d in silence,       
Returning upon my poems, considering, lingering long,       
A Phantom arose before me, with distrustful aspect,       
Terrible in beauty, age, and power,       
The genius of poets of old lands,            5   
As to me directing like flame its eyes,       
With finger pointing to many immortal songs,       
And menacing voice, What singest thou? it said;       
Know’st thou not, there is but one theme for ever-enduring bards?       
And that is the theme of War, the fortune of battles,     10   
The making of perfect soldiers?       
     
2

Be it so, then I answer’d,       
I too, haughty Shade, also sing war—and a longer and greater one than any,       
Waged in my book with varying fortune—with flight, advance, and retreat—Victory deferr’d and wavering,       
(Yet, methinks, certain, or as good as certain, at the last,)—The field the world;     15   
For life and death—for the Body, and for the eternal Soul,       
Lo! too am come, chanting the chant of battles,       
I, above all, promote brave soldiers.
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3. In Cabin’d Ships at Sea



1

IN cabin’d ships, at sea,       
The boundless blue on every side expanding,       
With whistling winds and music of the waves—the large imperious waves—In such,       
Or some lone bark, buoy’d on the dense marine,       
Where, joyous, full of faith, spreading white sails,            5   
She cleaves the ether, mid the sparkle and the foam of day, or under many a star at night,       
By sailors young and old, haply will I, a reminiscence of the land, be read,       
In full rapport at last.       
     
2

Here are our thoughts—voyagers’ thoughts,       
Here not the land, firm land, alone appears, may then by them be said;     10   
The sky o’erarches here—we feel the undulating deck beneath our feet,       
We feel the long pulsation—ebb and flow of endless motion;       
The tones of unseen mystery—the vague and vast suggestions of the briny world—the liquid-flowing syllables,       
The perfume, the faint creaking of the cordage, the melancholy rhythm,       
The boundless vista, and the horizon far and dim, are all here,     15   
And this is Ocean’s poem.       
     
3

Then falter not, O book! fulfil your destiny!       
You, not a reminiscence of the land alone,       
You too, as a lone bark, cleaving the ether—purpos’d I know       
not whither—yet ever full of faith,     20   
Consort to every ship that sails—sail you!       
Bear forth to them, folded, my love—(Dear mariners! for you I fold it here, in every leaf;)       
Speed on, my Book! spread your white sails, my little bark, athwart the imperious waves!       
Chant on—sail on—bear o’er the boundless blue, from me, to every shore,       
This song for mariners and all their ships.
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4. To Foreign Lands



I HEARD that you ask’d for something to prove this puzzle, the New World,       
And to define America, her athletic Democracy;       
Therefore I send you my poems, that you behold in them what you wanted.
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5. To a Historian



YOU who celebrate bygones!       
Who have explored the outward, the surfaces of the races—the life that has exhibited itself;       
Who have treated of man as the creature of politics, aggregates, rulers and priests;       
I, habitan of the Alleghanies, treating of him as he is in himself, in his own rights,       
Pressing the pulse of the life that has seldom exhibited itself, (the great pride of man in himself;)            5   
Chanter of Personality, outlining what is yet to be,       
I project the history of the future.
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6. For Him I Sing



FOR him I sing,       
(As some perennial tree, out of its roots, the present on the past:)       
With time and space I him dilate—and fuse the immortal laws,       
To make himself, by them, the law unto himself.
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7. When I read the Book



WHEN I read the book, the biography famous,       
And is this, then, (said I,) what the author calls a man’s life?       
And so will some one, when I am dead and gone, write my life?       
(As if any man really knew aught of my life;       
Why, even I myself, I often think, know little or nothing of my real life;            5   
Only a few hints—a few diffused, faint clues and indirections,       
I seek, for my own use, to trace out here.)
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8. Beginning my Studies



BEGINNING my studies, the first step pleas’d me so much,       
The mere fact, consciousness—these forms—the power of motion,       
The least insect or animal—the senses—eyesight—love;       
The first step, I say, aw’d me and pleas’d me so much,       
I have hardly gone, and hardly wish’d to go, any farther,            5   
But stop and loiter all the time, to sing it in extatic songs.
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9. To Thee, Old Cause!



TO thee, old Cause!       
Thou peerless, passionate, good cause!       
Thou stern, remorseless, sweet Idea!       
Deathless throughout the ages, races, lands!       
After a strange, sad war—great war for thee,            5   
(I think all war through time was really fought, and ever will be really fought, for thee;)       
These chants for thee—the eternal march of thee.       
     
Thou orb of many orbs!       
Thou seething principle! Thou well-kept, latent germ! Thou centre!       
Around the idea of thee the strange sad war revolving,     10   
With all its angry and vehement play of causes,       
(With yet unknown results to come, for thrice a thousand years,)       
These recitatives for thee—my Book and the War are one,       
Merged in its spirit I and mine—as the contest hinged on thee,       
As a wheel on its axis turns, this Book, unwitting to itself,     15   
Around the Idea of thee.
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