惠特曼的草叶集_惠特曼的诗 草叶集
AGES AND AGES RETURNING AT INTERVALS
AGES and ages returning at intervals,
Undestroy"d, wandering immortal,
Lusty, phallic, with the potent original loins, perfectly sweet,
I, chanter of Adamic songs,
Through the new garden the West, the great cities calling,
Deliriate, thus prelude what is generated, offering these, offering myself,
Bathing myself, bathing my songs in Sex,
Offspring of my loins.
WE TWO, HOW LONG WE WERE FOOL"D
WE two, how long we were fool"d,
Now transmuted, we swiftly escape as Nature escapes,
We are Nature, long have we been absent, but now we return,
We become plants, trunks, foliage, roots, bark,
We are bedded in the ground, we are rocks,
We are oaks, we grow in the openings side by side,
We powse, we are two among the wild herds spontaneous as any,
We are two fishes swimming in the sea together,
We are what locust blossoms are, we drop scent around lanes mornings and evenings, We are also the coarse smut of beasts, vegetables, minerals,
We are two predatory hawks, we soar above and look down,
We are two resplendent suns, we it is who balance ourselves orbit and stellar, we are as two comets,
We prowl fang"d and four-footed in the woods, we spring on prey,
We are two clouds forenoons and afternoons driving over-head,
We are seas mingling, we are two of those cheerful waves rolling over each other and interwetting each other,
We are what the atmosphere is, transparent, receptive, pervious, impervious,
We are snow, rain, cold, darkness, we are each product and influence of the globe,
We have circled and circled till we have arrived home again,
we two,
We have voided all but freedom and all but our own joy.
O HYMEN! O HYMENEE!
O HYMEN! O hymenee! why do you tantalize me thus?
O why sting me for a swift moment only?
Why can you not continue? O why do you now cease?
Is it because if you continued beyond the swift moment you would soon certainly kill me?
I AM HE THAT ACHES WITH LOVE
I AM he that aches with amorous love;
Does the earth gravitate? does not all matter, aching, attract all matter?
So the body of me to all I meet or know.
NATIVE MOMENTS
NATIVE moments&emdash;when you come upon me&emdash;ah you are here now, Give me now libidinous joys only,
Give me the drench of my passions, give me life coarse and rank,
To-day I go consort with Nature"s darlings, to-night too,
I am for those who believe in loose delights, I share the midnight orgies of young men, I dance with the dancers and drink with the drinkers,
The echoes ring with out indecent calls, I pick out some low person for my dearest friend,
He shall be lawless, rude, illiterate, he shall be one condemned by others for deeds done,
I will play a part no longer, why should I exile myself from my companions? O you shunn"d persons, I at least do not shun you,
I come forthwith in your midst, I will be your poet,
I will be more to you than to any of the rest.
ONCE I PASS"D THROUGH A POPULOUS CITY
ONCE I passed through a populous city imprinting my pain for future use with its shows, architecture, customs, traditions,
Yet now of all that city I remember only a woman I casually met there who detain"d me for love of me,
Day by day and night by night we were together else has long been forgotten by me, I remember I say only that woman who passionately clung to me,
Again we wander, we love, we separate again,
Again she holds me by the hand, I must not go,
I see her close beside me with silent lips sad and tremulous.
I HEARD YOU SOLEMN-SWEET PIPES OF THE ORGAN
I HEARD you solemn-sweet pipes of the organ as last Sunday morn I pass"d the church,
Winds of autumn, as I walked the woods at dusk I heard your long-stretch"d sighs up above so mournful,
I heard the perfect Italian tenor singing at the opera, I heard the soprano in the midst of the quartet singing;
Heart of my love! you too I heard murmuring low through one of the wrists around my head,
Heard the pulse of you when all was still ringing little bells last night under my ear.
FACING WEST FROM CALIFORNIA"S SHORES
FACING west from California"s shores,
Inquiring, tireless, seeking what is yet unfound,
I, a child, very old, over waves, towards the house of maternity, the land of migrations, look afar,
Look off the shores of my Western sea, the circle almost circled;
For starting westward from Hindustan, from the vales of Kashmere, From Asia, from the north, from the God, the sage, and the hero, From the south, from the flowery peninsulas and the spice islands, Long having wandered since, round the earth having wandered, Now I face home again, very pleased and joyous,
(But where is what I started for so long ago?
And why is it yet unfound?)
AS ADAM EARLY IN THE MORNING
As Adam early in the morning,
Walking forth from the bower refreshed with sleep,
Behold me where I pass, hear my voice, approach,
Touch me, touch the palm of your hand to my body as I pass, Be not afraid of my body.