poesi.
"whoever you are, i fear you are walking the walks of
dreams,
i fear these supposed realities are to melt from under your
feet and hands,
even now your features, joys, speech, house, trade, manners,
troubles, follies, costume, crimes, dissipate away from you,
your true soul and body appear before me,
they stand forth out of affairs, out of commerce, shops,
work, farms, clothes, the house, buying, selling, eating,
drinking, suffering, dying.
whoever you are, now i place my hand upon you, that you
be my poem,
i whisper with my lips close to your ear,
i have loved many women and men, but i love none better
than you.
o i have been dilatory and dumb,
i should have made my way straight to you long ago,
i should have blabb'd nothing but you, i should have chanted
nothing but you."
- ett utdrag ur "to you" av walt whitman.
