Of the questions of these recurring;
Of the endless trains of the faithless,
of cities filled with the foolish;
Of myself forever reproaching myself,
(for who more foolish than I,
and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light,
of the objects mean,
of the struggle ever renew'd;
Of the poor results of all,
of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me;
Of the empty and useless years of the rest,
and with the rest me, intertwined;
The question, O me! so sad, recurring
--What good amid these, O me, O life?
Answer:
That you are here -- that life exists, and identity;
That the powerful play goes on,
and you may contribute a verse.
* * * * *
Walt Whitman (1819–1892) is an American poet that I truly like. I like the subjects of some of his poems, I like the way he expresses his emotions and, above all, I like his optimism and his passion for life. This is why I have decided to pay a humble homage to him in this blog.
This first poem, which was apparently included in his work “Leaves of Grass”, beautifully reflects the confusion and some of the perplexities that we must face in life. The real point is that, no matter how small a role you may feel you are playing, you are always entitled to contribute a verse… and thus the real question arises:
This first poem, which was apparently included in his work “Leaves of Grass”, beautifully reflects the confusion and some of the perplexities that we must face in life. The real point is that, no matter how small a role you may feel you are playing, you are always entitled to contribute a verse… and thus the real question arises:
What will your verse be?
