Salut Au Monde!
Salut Au Monde!
O TAKE my hand Walt Whitman!
Such gliding wonders! such sights and sounds!
Such join'd unended
links, each hook'd to the next,
Each answering all, each sharing the earth with all.
What widens within you Walt Whitman?
What waves and soils exuding?
What climes? what persons
and cities are here?
Who are the infants, some playing, some slumbering?
Who are the girls? who are
the married women?
Who are the groups of old men going slowly with their arms
about each other's
What rivers are these? what forests and fruits are these?
What are the mountains call'd that rise
so high in the mists?
What myriads of dwellings are they fill'd with dwellers?
Within me latitude widens, longitude lengthens,
Asia, Africa, Europe, are to the east America is provided
for in the west,
Banding the bulge of the earth winds the hot equator,
Curiously north and south turn the
Within me is the longest day, the sun wheels in slanting rings,
it does not set for months,
in due time within me the midnight sun just rises
above the horizon and sinks again,
Within me zones,
seas, cataracts, forests, volcanoes, groups,
Malaysia, Polynesia, and the great West Indian islands.
What do you hear Walt Whitman?
I hear the workman singing and the farmer's wife singing,
I hear in the distance the sounds of children
and of animals
early in the day,
I hear emulous shouts of Australians pursuing the wild horse,
I hear the
Spanish dance with castanets in the chestnut shade,
to the rebeck and guitar,
I hear continual echoes
from the Thames,
I hear fierce French liberty songs,
I hear of the Italian boat-sculler the musical recitative
I hear the locusts in Syria as they strike the grain and grass
with the showers of their terrible
I hear the Coptic refrain toward sundown, pensively falling
on the breast of the black venerable
vast mother the Nile,
I hear the chirp of the Mexican muleteer, and the bells of the
I hear the Arab
muezzin calling from the top of the mosque,
I hear the Christian priests at the altars of their churches,
hear the responsive base and soprano,
I hear the cry of the Cossack, and the sailor's voice putting to
sea at Okotsk,
I hear the wheeze of the slave-coffle as the slaves march on, as
the husky gangs pass on
by twos and threes, fasten'd
together with wrist-chains and ankle-chains,
I hear the Hebrew reading his
records and psalms,
I hear the rhythmic myths of the Greeks, and the strong
legends of the Romans,
hear the tale of the divine life and bloody death of the
beautiful God the Christ,
I hear the Hindoo teaching
his favorite pupil the loves, wars,
adages, transmitted safely to this day from poets who
wrote three thousand
What do you see Walt Whitman?
Who are they you salute, and that one after another salute you?
I see a great round wonder rolling through space,
I see diminute farms, hamlets, ruins, graveyards, jails,
palaces, hovels, huts of barbarians, tents of nomads
upon the surface,
I see the shaded part
on one side where the sleepers are
sleeping, and the sunlit part on the other side,
I see the curious
rapid change of the light and shade,
I see distant lands, as real and near to the inhabitants of them
my land is to me.
I see plenteous waters,
I see mountain peaks, I see the sierras of Andes where they
I see plainly
the Himalayas, Chian Shahs, Altays, Ghauts,
I see the giant pinnacles of Elbruz, Kazbek, Bazardjusi,
see the Styrian Alps, and the Karnac Alps,
I see the Pyrenees, Balks, Carpathians, and to the north the
Dofrafields, and off at sea mount Hecla,
I see Vesuvius and Etna, the mountains of the Moon, and the