who pushed me to read Whitman, Leaves of Grass.. the 'me'ness in whitman
Every kind for itself and its own . . . . for me mine male and female,
For me all that have been boys and that love women,
For me the man that is proud and feels how it stings to be slighted,
For me the sweetheart and the old maid . . . . for me mothers and the mothers of
mothers,
For me lips that have smiled, eyes that have shed tears,
For me children and the begetters of children.
------------
I am the poet of the body,
And I am the poet of the soul.
The pleasures of heaven are with me, and the pains of hell are with me,
The first I graft and increase upon myself . . . . the latter I translate into a new
tongue.
-------------
Divine am I inside and out, and I make holy whatever I touch or am touched from;
The scent of these arm-pits is aroma finer than prayer,
This head is more than churches or bibles or creeds.
--------------
I know perfectly well my own egotism,
And know my omniverous words, and cannot say any less,
And would fetch you whoever you are flush with myself.
----------
I do not despise you priests;
My faith is the greatest of faiths and the least of faiths,
-------
I swear I will never mention love or death inside a house,
And I swear I never will translate myself at all, only to him or her who privately
stays with me in the open air.
------------
There is that in me . . . . I do not know what it is . . . . but I know it is in me.
Do I contradict myself?
Very well then . . . . I contradict myself;
I am large . . . . I contain multitudes.
---------------
The married couple sleep calmly in their bed, he with his palm on the hip of the
wife, and she with her palm on the hip of the husband,
The sisters sleep lovingly side by side in their bed,
The men sleep lovingly side by side in theirs,
And the mother sleeps with her little child carefully wrapped.
The blind sleep, and the deaf and dumb sleep,
The prisoner sleeps well in the prison . . . . the runaway son sleeps,
The earth recedes from me into the night,
I saw that it was beautiful . . . . and I see that what is not the earth is beautiful.
I go from bedside to bedside . . . . I sleep close with the other sleepers, each
in turn;
I dream in my dream all the dreams of the other dreamers,
And I become the other dreamers.
--------------
He is the answerer,
What can be answered he answers, and what cannot be answered he shows how it
cannot be answered.
For me all that have been boys and that love women,
For me the man that is proud and feels how it stings to be slighted,
For me the sweetheart and the old maid . . . . for me mothers and the mothers of
mothers,
For me lips that have smiled, eyes that have shed tears,
For me children and the begetters of children.
------------
I am the poet of the body,
And I am the poet of the soul.
The pleasures of heaven are with me, and the pains of hell are with me,
The first I graft and increase upon myself . . . . the latter I translate into a new
tongue.
-------------
Divine am I inside and out, and I make holy whatever I touch or am touched from;
The scent of these arm-pits is aroma finer than prayer,
This head is more than churches or bibles or creeds.
--------------
I know perfectly well my own egotism,
And know my omniverous words, and cannot say any less,
And would fetch you whoever you are flush with myself.
----------
I do not despise you priests;
My faith is the greatest of faiths and the least of faiths,
-------
I swear I will never mention love or death inside a house,
And I swear I never will translate myself at all, only to him or her who privately
stays with me in the open air.
------------
There is that in me . . . . I do not know what it is . . . . but I know it is in me.
Do I contradict myself?
Very well then . . . . I contradict myself;
I am large . . . . I contain multitudes.
---------------
The married couple sleep calmly in their bed, he with his palm on the hip of the
wife, and she with her palm on the hip of the husband,
The sisters sleep lovingly side by side in their bed,
The men sleep lovingly side by side in theirs,
And the mother sleeps with her little child carefully wrapped.
The blind sleep, and the deaf and dumb sleep,
The prisoner sleeps well in the prison . . . . the runaway son sleeps,
The earth recedes from me into the night,
I saw that it was beautiful . . . . and I see that what is not the earth is beautiful.
I go from bedside to bedside . . . . I sleep close with the other sleepers, each
in turn;
I dream in my dream all the dreams of the other dreamers,
And I become the other dreamers.
--------------
He is the answerer,
What can be answered he answers, and what cannot be answered he shows how it
cannot be answered.