WHAT am I, after all, but a child, pleas'd with the sound of my own
name? repeating it over and over;
I stand apart to hear--it never tires me.
To you, your name also;
Did you think there was nothing but two or three pronunciations in
the sound of your name?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
What Am I, After All? - - Kind of an egomaniac? ? I imagine him sitting in a room pronouncing his name, accentuating pause at each syllable. No no, speaks more volumes about the writer than the poem itself. No offense, just what I gathered after 300 of his other poems, then this.