Continue your annotations, continue your questionings.
Urge and urge and urge, Always the procreant urge of the world.
Something I cannot see puts upward libidinous prongs, Seas of bright juice suffuse heaven.
The last scud of day holds back for me, It flings my likeness after the rest and true as any on the shadow'd wilds, It coaxes me to the vapor and the dusk.What is known I strip away, I launch all men and women forward with me into the Unknown.Biblioteca, iNFOguías UDC, intranet do Servizo de Biblioteca, biblioteca Universitaria.Rise after rise bow the phantoms behind me, Afar down I see the huge first Nothing, I know I was even there, I waited unseen and always, and slept through the lethargic mist, And took my time, and took no hurt from the fetid carbon.The sky up there-yet here or next door, or across the way?I hear bravuras of birds, bustle of growing wheat, gossip of flames, clack of sticks cooking my meals, I hear the sound I love, the sound of the human voice, I hear all sounds running together, combined, fused or following, Sounds of the city and.It is not far, it is within reach, Perhaps you have been on it since you were born and did not know, Perhaps it is everywhere on water and on land.To his work without flinching the accoucheur comes, I see the elder-hand pressing receiving supporting, I recline by the sills of the exquisite flexible doors, And mark the outlet, and mark the relief and escape.I am he that walks with the tender and growing night, I call to the earth and sea half-held by the night.The suicide sprawls on the bloody floor of the bedroom, I witness the corpse with its dabbled hair, I note where the pistol has fallen.
I seize the descending man and raise him with resistless will, O despairer, here is my neck, By God, you shall not go down!
I do not know what is untried and afterward, But I know it will in its turn prove sufficient, and cannot fail.Hang your whole weight upon.In the houses the dishes and fare and furniture-but the host and hostess, and the look out of their eyes?I also say it is good to fall, battles are lost in the same spirit in which they are won.I am an old artillerist, I tell of my fort's bombardment, I am there again.I know perfectly well my own egotism, Know my omnivorous lines and must not write any less, And would fetch you whoever you are flush with myself.I am the poet of the woman the same as the man, And I say it is as great to be a woman as to be a man, And I say there is nothing greater than the mother of men.Sun so generous it shall be you!26 Now I will do nothing but listen, To accrue what I hear into this song, to let sounds contribute toward.
Will you speak before I am gone?