Читать книгу The Valley of Amazement - Amy Tan - Страница 5

Quicksand years that whirl me I know not whither,

Your schemes, politics, fail, lines give way, substances mock and

elude me,

Only the theme I sing, the great and strong-possess’d soul, eludes

not,

One’s-self, must never give way—that is the final substance—

that out of all is sure,

Out of politics, triumphs, battles, life, what at last finally remains?

When shows break up what but One’s-Self is sure?

—WALT WHITMAN, “QUICKSAND YEARS”