Walt Whitman

Song of Myself

  • Ofelia Rhar citeretfor 3 år siden
    I believe in you my soul . . . . the other I am must not abase itself to you,
    And you must not be abased to the other
  • Ofelia Rhar citeretfor 3 år siden
    The sickness of one of my folks . . . . or of myself . . . . or ill-doing . . . . or loss or lack of money . . . . or depressions or exaltations,
    They come to me days and nights and go from me again,
    But they are not the Me myself
  • Ofelia Rhar citeretfor 3 år siden
    Shall I postpone my acceptation and realization and scream at my eyes,
    That they turn from gazing after and down the road,
    And forthwith cipher and show me to a cent,
    Exactly the contents of one and exactly the contents of two, and which is ahead?
  • Ofelia Rhar citeretfor 3 år siden
    I am satisfied . . . . I see, dance, laugh, sing;
  • Ofelia Rhar citeretfor 3 år siden
    Clear and sweet is my soul . . . . and clear and sweet is all that is not my soul.
  • Ofelia Rhar citeretfor 3 år siden
    I have heard what the talkers were talking . . . . the talk of the beginning and the end,
    But I do not talk of the beginning or the end.

    There was never any more inception than there is now,
    Nor any more youth or age than there is now;
    And will never be any more perfection than there is now,
    Nor any more heaven or hell than there is now.
  • Ofelia Rhar citeretfor 3 år siden
    You shall listen to all sides and filter them for yourself
  • Ofelia Rhar citeretfor 3 år siden
    The feeling of health . . . . the full-noon trill . . . . the song of me rising from bed and meeting the sun
  • Ofelia Rhar citeretfor 3 år siden
    For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you. I loafe and invite my soul,
  • Dariahar citeretfor 3 år siden
    I mind how we lay in June, such a transparent summer morning;
    You settled your head athwart my hips and gently turned over upon me,
    And parted the shirt from my bosom-bone, and plunged your tongue to my barestript heart,
    And reached till you felt my beard, and reached till you held my feet.
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