Song Of Myself, XVII Poem by Walt Whitman
Song Of Myself, XVII
These are really the thoughts of all men in all ages and lands, they are not original with me,
If they are not yours as much as mine they are nothing, or next to nothing,
If they are not the riddle and the untying of the riddle they are nothing,
If they are not just as close as they are distant they are nothing.
This is the grass that grows wherever the land is and the water is,
This the common air that bathes the globe.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 3:41:34 AM # 1.0.0.1119
A modest assessment; these are the thoughts of all men in all ages, not just his. A poem has to belong to the reader as much as him; It should be a puzzle, but with a solution; it needs to be close as it is distant, otherwise 'they are nothing.' I agree with this.