I anchor my ship for a little while only, My messengers continually cruise away or bring their returns.
Firm masculine colter it shall be you!
I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable, I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.I am satisfied-I see, dance, laugh, sing; As the hugging and loving bed-fellow sleeps at my side through the night, and withdraws at the peep of the day with stealthy tread, Leaving me baskets cover'd with white towels swelling the house with their plenty, Shall.My face rubs to the hunter's face when he lies down alone in his blanket, The driver thinking of me does spille gratis slots maskiner uten nedlastinger og uten registrering ingen innskudd not mind the jolt of his wagon, The young mother and old mother comprehend me, The girl and the wife rest the needle.Divine am I inside and out, and I make holy whatever I touch or am touch'd from, The scent of these arm-pits aroma finer than prayer, This head more than churches, bibles, and all the creeds.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?I open my scuttle at night and see the far-sprinkled systems, And all I see multiplied as high as I can cipher edge but the rim of the farther systems.Wrench'd and sweaty-calm and cool then my body becomes, I sleep-I sleep long.I am an old artillerist, I tell of my fort's bombardment, I am there again.
And what is love?
45 O span of youth!
Fetch stonecrop mixt with cedar and branches of lilac, This is the lexicographer, this the chemist, this made a grammar of the old cartouches, These mariners put the ship through dangerous unknown seas.And what do you think has become of the women and children?To his work without flinching the accoucheur comes, I see the elder-hand pressing receiving supporting, I recline by the sills of the exquisite flexible doors, And mark the outlet, and mark the relief and escape.Prodigal, you have given me love-therefore I to you give love!5 I believe in you my soul, the other I am must not abase itself to you, And you must not be abased to the other.My foothold is tenon'd and mortis'd in granite, I laugh at what you call dissolution, And I know the amplitude of time.And as to you Corpse I think you are good manure, but that does not offend me, I smell the white roses sweet-scented and growing, I reach to the leafy lips, I reach to the polish'd breasts of melons.