Walt Whitman (Уолт Уитмен)

Leaves of Grass. 30. Whispers of Heavenly Death. 5. Yet, Yet, Ye Downcast Hours

Yet, yet, ye downcast hours, I know ye also,
Weights of lead, how ye clog and cling at my ankles,
Earth to a chamber of mourning turns—I hear the o'erweening, mocking
      voice,
Matter is conqueror—matter, triumphant only, continues onward.

Despairing cries float ceaselessly toward me,
The call of my nearest lover, putting forth, alarm'd, uncertain,
The sea I am quickly to sail, come tell me,
Come tell me where I am speeding, tell me my destination.

I understand your anguish, but I cannot help you,
I approach, hear, behold, the sad mouth, the look out of the eyes,
      your mute inquiry,
Whither I go from the bed I recline on, come tell me,—
Old age, alarm'd, uncertain—a young woman's voice, appealing to
      me for comfort;
A young man's voice, Shall I not escape?

1. Leaves of Grass. 5. Calamus. 38. That Shadow My Likeness
2. Leaves of Grass. 20. By the Roadside. 28. Offerings
3. Leaves of Grass. 21. Drum-Taps. 35. How Solemn As One by One [Washington City, 1865]
4. Leaves of Grass. 35. Good-Bye My Fancy. 7. The Pallid Wreath
5. Leaves of Grass. 35. Good-Bye My Fancy. 17. A Christmas Greeting

Распечатать (Print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1372

Последние стихотворения

To English version