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Bodhi Tree
2972 Posts |
 Posted - Nov 14 2014 : 10:19:12 PM
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From Song of Myself...
The city sleeps and the country sleeps,
The living sleep for their time, the dead sleep for their time,
The old husband sleeps by his wife and the young husband
sleeps by his wife;
And these tend inward to me, and I tend outward to them,
And such as it is to be of these more or less I am,
And of these one and all I weave the song of myself. |
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Bodhi Tree
2972 Posts |
Posted - Nov 14 2014 : 11:15:35 PM
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And more genius from him...
These are really the thoughts of all men in all ages and lands,
they are not original with me,
If they are not yours as much as mine they are nothing, or
next to nothing,
If they are not the riddle and the untying of the riddle they
are nothing,
If they are not just as close as they are distant they are
nothing.
This is the grass that grows wherever the land is and the
water is,
This the common air that bathes the globe. |
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Walt Whitman's Self-Inquiry
