The Walt Whitman MEGAPACK ®. Walt Whitman

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СКАЧАТЬ do not know it—it is without name—it is a word unsaid,

      It is not in any dictionary, utterance, symbol.

      Something it swings on more than the earth I swing on,

      To it the creation is the friend whose embracing awakes me.

      Perhaps I might tell more. Outlines! I plead for my brothers and sisters.

      Do you see O my brothers and sisters?

      It is not chaos or death—it is form, union, plan—it is eternal life—it is Happiness.

      51

      The past and present wilt—I have fill’d them, emptied them.

      And proceed to fill my next fold of the future.

      Listener up there! what have you to confide to me?

      Look in my face while I snuff the sidle of evening,

      (Talk honestly, no one else hears you, and I stay only a minute longer.)

      Do I contradict myself?

      Very well then I contradict myself,

      (I am large, I contain multitudes.)

      I concentrate toward them that are nigh, I wait on the door-slab.

      Who has done his day’s work? who will soonest be through with his supper?

      Who wishes to walk with me?

      Will you speak before I am gone? will you prove already too late?

      52

      The spotted hawk swoops by and accuses me, he complains of my gab and my loitering.

      I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable,

      I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.

      The last scud of day holds back for me,

      It flings my likeness after the rest and true as any on the shadow’d wilds,

      It coaxes me to the vapor and the dusk.

      I depart as air, I shake my white locks at the runaway sun,

      I effuse my flesh in eddies, and drift it in lacy jags.

      I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love,

      If you want me again look for me under your boot-soles.

      You will hardly know who I am or what I mean,

      But I shall be good health to you nevertheless,

      And filter and fibre your blood.

      Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged,

      Missing me one place search another,

      I stop somewhere waiting for you.

      BOOK IV

      CHILDREN OF ADAM

      To the Garden the World

      To the garden the world anew ascending,

      Potent mates, daughters, sons, preluding,

      The love, the life of their bodies, meaning and being,

      Curious here behold my resurrection after slumber,

      The revolving cycles in their wide sweep having brought me again,

      Amorous, mature, all beautiful to me, all wondrous,

      My limbs and the quivering fire that ever plays through them, for reasons, most wondrous,

      Existing I peer and penetrate still,

      Content with the present, content with the past,

      By my side or back of me Eve following,

      Or in front, and I following her just the same.

      From Pent-Up Aching Rivers

      From pent-up aching rivers,

      From that of myself without which I were nothing,

      From what I am determin’d to make illustrious, even if I stand sole among men,

      From my own voice resonant, singing the phallus,

      Singing the song of procreation,

      Singing the need of superb children and therein superb grown people,

      Singing the muscular urge and the blending,

      Singing the bedfellow’s song, (O resistless yearning!

      O for any and each the body correlative attracting!

      O for you whoever you are your correlative body! O it, more than all else, you delighting!)

      From the hungry gnaw that eats me night and day,

      From native moments, from bashful pains, singing them,

      Seeking something yet unfound though I have diligently sought it many a long year,

      Singing the true song of the soul fitful at random,

      Renascent with grossest Nature or among animals,

      Of that, of them and what goes with them my poems informing,

      Of the smell of apples and lemons, of the pairing of birds,

      Of the wet of woods, of the lapping of waves,

      Of the mad pushes of waves upon the land, I them chanting,

      The overture lightly sounding, the strain anticipating,

      The welcome nearness, the sight of the perfect body,

      The swimmer swimming naked in the bath, or motionless on his back lying and floating,

      The female form approaching, I pensive, love-flesh tremulous aching,

      The divine list for myself or you or for any one making,

      The face, the limbs, the index from head to foot, and what it arouses,

      The mystic deliria, the madness amorous, the utter abandonment,

      (Hark close and still what I now whisper to you,

      I love you, O you entirely possess me,

      O that you and I escape from the rest and go utterly off, free and lawless,

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