Читать книгу The Essential Works of Walt Whitman - Walt Whitman - Страница 82

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Behold this swarthy face, these gray eyes,

This beard, the white wool unclipt upon my neck,

My brown hands and the silent manner of me without charm;

Yet comes one a Manhattanese and ever at parting kisses me lightly

on the lips with robust love,

And I on the crossing of the street or on the ship’s deck give a

kiss in return,

We observe that salute of American comrades land and sea,

We are those two natural and nonchalant persons.