(no subject)
Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking by Walt Whitman
Demon or Bird! (said the boy's soul)
Is it indeed towards your mate you sing? or is it to me?
For I, that was a child, my tongue's use sleeping, now I have heard you,
Now in a moment I know what I am for, I awake
and already a thousand singers, a thousand songs clearer,
louder and more sorrowful than yours,
A thousand warbling echoes have started to life within me
never to die.
O you singer solitary, singing by yourself, projecting me.
O solitary me listening, never more shall I cease
perpetuating you,
Never more shall I escape, never more the reverberations,
Never more the cries of unsatisfied love be absent from me,
Never again leave me to be the peaceful child I was before
what there in the night,
By the sea under the yellow and sagging moon,
The messanger there arous'd the fire, the sweet hell within
The unknown want, the destiny of me.
Demon or Bird! (said the boy's soul)
Is it indeed towards your mate you sing? or is it to me?
For I, that was a child, my tongue's use sleeping, now I have heard you,
Now in a moment I know what I am for, I awake
and already a thousand singers, a thousand songs clearer,
louder and more sorrowful than yours,
A thousand warbling echoes have started to life within me
never to die.
O you singer solitary, singing by yourself, projecting me.
O solitary me listening, never more shall I cease
perpetuating you,
Never more shall I escape, never more the reverberations,
Never more the cries of unsatisfied love be absent from me,
Never again leave me to be the peaceful child I was before
what there in the night,
By the sea under the yellow and sagging moon,
The messanger there arous'd the fire, the sweet hell within
The unknown want, the destiny of me.