Saturday, April 18, 2015

April Poetry I Hear America Singing by Walt Whitman

I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear, 
Those of the mechanics, each one singing his as it should be blithe and strong, 
The carpenter singing his as he measures his plank or beam, 
The mason singing his as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work, 
The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat, the deck hand singing on the steamboat deck, 
The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench, the hatter singing as he stands, 
The wood-cutter's song, the plowboy's on his way in the morning, or at noon intermission or at sundown, 
The delicious singing of the mother, or the young wife at work, or the girl sewing or washing, 
Each singing what belongs to him or her and to none else, 
The day what belongs to the day—at night the party of young fellows, robust, friendly, Singing with open mouths their strong melodious songs. 

Walt Whitman, 1860


barbara judge said...

Walt Whitman wrote eloquently about his time. What would he write about our culture today? -- barbara

Rambling Woods said...

I am not educated on it, but I do love poetry

Florence said...

Barbara, I suppose he would have to say something about seeing America staring at devices. LOL.

Michelle, I didn't "discover" poetry until after I retired. I had always been a math/science person and poetry just left me wondering what all the fuss was about. But then I stumbled on Mary Oliver and a whole world seemed to just open up. I don't know if it was because I had more time to read and think about poetry or if I was simply ready for the teacher when Mary Oliver showed up on GoodReads.