Toward twelve there in the beams of the moon they surrender to us. I will accept nothing which all cannot have their counterpart of on the same terms. Creeds and schools in abeyance, Retiring back a while sufficed at what they are, but never forgotten, I harbor for good or bad, I permit to speak at every hazard, Nature without check with original energy. Myself moving forward then and now and forever, Gathering and showing more always and with velocity, Infinite and omnigenous, and the like of these among them, Not too exclusive toward the reachers of my remembrancers, Picking out here one that I love, and now go with him on brotherly terms. I believe in those wing'd purposes, And acknowledge red, yellow, white, playing within me, And consider green and violet and the tufted crown intentional, And do not call the tortoise unworthy because she is not something else, And the in the woods never studied the gamut, yet trills pretty well to me, And the abbigliamento of the bay mare shames silliness out of me. It alone is without flaw, it alone rounds and completes all, That mystic baffling wonder alone completes all. The orchestra whirls me wider than Uranus flies, It wrenches such ardors from me I did not know I possess'd them, It sails me, I dab with bare feet, they are lick'd by the indolent waves, I am cut by bitter and angry hail, I lose my breath, Steep'd amid honey'd morphine, my windpipe throttled in fakes of death, At length let up again to feel the puzzle of puzzles, And that we call Being. Partaker of influx and efflux I, extoller of hate and conciliation, Extoller of amies and those that sleep in each others' arms. The second First-day morning they were brought out in squads and massacred, it was beautiful early summer, The work commenced about five o'clock and was over by eight. Unscrew the doors themselves from their jambs! The atmosphere is not a perfume, it has no taste of the distillation, it is odorless, It is for my mouth forever, I am in love with it, I will go to the bank by the wood and become undisguised and naked, I am mad for it to be in contact with me.
Even as I stand or sit passing faster than you. Backward I see in my own days where I sweated through fog with linguists and contenders, I have no mockings or arguments, I witness and wait. It seems to me more than all the print I have read in my life. A tenor large and fresh as the creation fills me, The orbic flex of his mouth is pouring and filling me full. Whimpering and truckling fold with powders for invalids, conformity goes to the fourth-remov'd, I wear my hat as I please indoors or out. I pass death with the dying and birth with the new-wash'd babe, and am not contain'd between my hat and boots, And peruse manifold objects, no two alike and every one good, The earth good and the stars good, and their adjuncts all good. The little light fades the immense and diaphanous shadows, The air tastes good to my palate.
Logic and sermons never convince, The damp of the night drives deeper into my soul. All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses, And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier. Whatever goes to the tilth of me it shall be you! One world is aware and by far the largest to me, and that is myself, And whether I come to my own to-day or in ten thousand or ten million years, I can cheerfully take it now, or with equal cheerfulness I can wait.
Or I guess the grass is itself a child, the produced babe of the vegetation. Trickling sap of maple, fibre of manly wheat, it shall be you! And to those whose war-vessels sank in the sea! If our colors are struck and the fighting done? The young men float on their backs, their white bellies bulge to the sun, they do not ask who seizes fast to them, They do not know who puffs and declines with pendant and bending arch, They do not think whom they souse with spray. I ascend to the foretruck, I take my place late at night in the crow's-nest, We sail the arctic sea, it is plenty light enough, Through the clear atmosphere I stretch around on the wonderful beauty, The enormous masses of ice pass me and I pass them, the scenery is plain in all directions, The white-topt mountains esibizione in the distance, I fling out my fancies toward them, We are approaching some great battle-field in which we are soon to be engaged, We pass the colossal outposts of the encampment, we pass with still feet and caution, Or we are entering by the suburbs some vast and ruin'd city, The blocks and fallen architecture more than all the living cities of the globe. I am given up by traitors, I talk wildly, I have lost my wits, I and nobody else am the greatest traitor, I went myself first to the headland, my own hands carried me there.
And to all generals that lost engagements, and all overcome heroes! Do I astonish more than they? Unscrew the locks from the doors! Logic and sermons never convince, The damp of the night drives deeper into my soul. Speech is the twin of my vision, it is unequal to measure itself, It provokes me forever, it says sarcastically, Walt you contain enough, why don't you let it out then?
06.10.2017 : 06:59 Mum:
Mi dispiace, ma, a mio parere, si sono errati. Io propongo di discuterne. Scrivere a me in PM, ti parla.
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Sviluppato Antonio Baritono