sábado, 21 de agosto de 2010

Walt Whitman


I knew a man, a common farmer, the father of five sons,
And in them the father of sons, and in them the father of sons.

This man was of wonderful vigor, calmness, beauty of person,
The shape of his head, the pale yellow and white of his hair and
beard, the immensurable meaning of his black eyes, the
richness and breadth of his manners.
These I used to go and visit him to see, he was wise also,
He was six feet tall, he was over eighty years old, his sons were
massive, clean, bearded, tan-faced, handsome,
They and his doughters loved him, all who saw him loved him,
They did not love him by allowance, they loved him with personal
He drank water only, the blood show'd like scarlet through the
clear-brown skin of his face,
He was a frequent gunner, and fisher, he sail'd his boat himself,
he had a fine one presented to him by ship-joiner,
he had fowloing-pieces presented to him by men that loved him,
When he went with his five sons and many grand-sons to hunt or
fish, you would pick him out as the most beautiful and
vigorous of the gang,
You would wish long and long to be with him, you would wish to
sit by him in the boat that you and he might touch each other.

Um comentário:

  1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fd02pGJx0s0&feature=av2e sunrise