
"A child said, What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands;
How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is, any more than he.
I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven.
Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord,
A scented gift and remembrancer, designedly dropt,
Bearing the owner’s name someway in the corners, that we may see and remark, and say, Whose?
Or I guess the grass is itself a child, the produced babe of the vegetation....."
WALT WHITMAN: LEAVES OF GRASS, I CELEBRATE MYSELF, 6
Send a message
Search for members


loess68 says:
.wildwuchspro replies:
uxxapro says:
.wildwuchspro replies:
Elena says:
.wildwuchspro replies:
Schussentälerpro says:
Marcelpro says:
.wildwuchspro replies:
goandgo says:
.wildwuchspro replies:
Sinephot says:
.wildwuchspro replies:
Wiesepro says:
.wildwuchspro says:
ChristO says:
Renatepro says: