The Essential Works of Walt Whitman. Walt Whitman

Чтение книги онлайн.

Читать онлайн книгу The Essential Works of Walt Whitman - Walt Whitman страница 72

Автор:
Серия:
Издательство:
The Essential Works of Walt Whitman - Walt Whitman

Скачать книгу

      36

       Stretch’d and still lies the midnight,

       Two great hulls motionless on the breast of the darkness,

       Our vessel riddled and slowly sinking, preparations to pass to the

       one we have conquer’d,

       The captain on the quarter-deck coldly giving his orders through a

       countenance white as a sheet,

       Near by the corpse of the child that serv’d in the cabin,

       The dead face of an old salt with long white hair and carefully

       curl’d whiskers,

       The flames spite of all that can be done flickering aloft and below,

       The husky voices of the two or three officers yet fit for duty,

       Formless stacks of bodies and bodies by themselves, dabs of flesh

       upon the masts and spars,

       Cut of cordage, dangle of rigging, slight shock of the soothe of waves,

       Black and impassive guns, litter of powder-parcels, strong scent,

       A few large stars overhead, silent and mournful shining,

       Delicate sniffs of sea-breeze, smells of sedgy grass and fields by

       the shore, death-messages given in charge to survivors,

       The hiss of the surgeon’s knife, the gnawing teeth of his saw,

       Wheeze, cluck, swash of falling blood, short wild scream, and long,

       dull, tapering groan,

       These so, these irretrievable.

      37

       You laggards there on guard! look to your arms!

       In at the conquer’d doors they crowd! I am possess’d!

       Embody all presences outlaw’d or suffering,

       See myself in prison shaped like another man,

       And feel the dull unintermitted pain.

      For me the keepers of convicts shoulder their carbines and keep watch,

       It is I let out in the morning and barr’d at night.

      Not a mutineer walks handcuff’d to jail but I am handcuff’d to him

       and walk by his side,

       (I am less the jolly one there, and more the silent one with sweat

       on my twitching lips.)

      Not a youngster is taken for larceny but I go up too, and am tried

       and sentenced.

      Not a cholera patient lies at the last gasp but I also lie at the last gasp,

       My face is ash-color’d, my sinews gnarl, away from me people retreat.

      Askers embody themselves in me and I am embodied in them,

       I project my hat, sit shame-faced, and beg.

      38

       Enough! enough! enough!

       Somehow I have been stunn’d. Stand back!

       Give me a little time beyond my cuff’d head, slumbers, dreams, gaping,

       I discover myself on the verge of a usual mistake.

      That I could forget the mockers and insults!

       That I could forget the trickling tears and the blows of the

       bludgeons and hammers!

       That I could look with a separate look on my own crucifixion and

       bloody crowning.

      I remember now,

       I resume the overstaid fraction,

       The grave of rock multiplies what has been confided to it, or to any graves,

       Corpses rise, gashes heal, fastenings roll from me.

      I troop forth replenish’d with supreme power, one of an average

       unending procession,

       Inland and sea-coast we go, and pass all boundary lines,

       Our swift ordinances on their way over the whole earth,

       The blossoms we wear in our hats the growth of thousands of years.

      Eleves, I salute you! come forward!

       Continue your annotations, continue your questionings.

      39

       The friendly and flowing savage, who is he?

       Is he waiting for civilization, or past it and mastering it?

      Is he some Southwesterner rais’d out-doors? is he Kanadian?

       Is he from the Mississippi country? Iowa, Oregon, California?

       The mountains? prairie-life, bush-life? or sailor from the sea?

      Wherever he goes men and women accept and desire him,

       They desire he should like them, touch them, speak to them, stay with them.

      Behavior lawless as snow-flakes, words simple as grass, uncomb’d

       head, laughter, and naivete,

       Slow-stepping feet, common features, common modes and emanations,

       They descend in new forms from the tips of his fingers,

       They are wafted with the odor of his body or breath, they fly out of

       the glance of his eyes.

      40

       Flaunt of the sunshine I need not your bask — lie over!

       You light surfaces only, I force surfaces and depths also.

      Earth! you seem to look for something at my hands,

       Say, old top-knot, what do you want?

      Man or woman, I might tell how I like you, but cannot,

       And might tell what it is in me and what it is in you, but cannot,

       And might tell that pining I have, that pulse of my nights and days.

      Behold, I do not give lectures

Скачать книгу