Читать книгу Walt Whitman: Leaves of Grass (English Edition) - Walt Whitman - Страница 20

Lo, the unbounded sea,

On its breast a ship starting, spreading all sails, carrying even

her moonsails.

The pennant is flying aloft as she speeds she speeds so stately—

below emulous waves press forward,

They surround the ship with shining curving motions and foam.