By Walt Whitman
We celebrate myself, and sing myself, And the thing I assume you shall assume, for each atom owned by me personally as good belongs to you personally.
My tongue, every atom of my blood, form’d with this soil, this atmosphere, created right right right here of moms and dads born right right here from moms and dads the exact same, and their moms and dads exactly the same, we, now thirty-seven years old in perfect wellness start, looking to stop maybe not till death. Pokračování textu Song of Myself, I loafe and ask my heart, we lean and loafe inside my simplicity observing a spear of summer time lawn.