Song of Myself: Leaves of Grass

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.

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Tenderly will I use you curling grass,
It may be you transpire from the breasts of young men,
It may be if I had known them I would have loved them,
It may be you are from old people, or from offspring taken soon out of their mothers' laps,
And here you are the mothers' laps.

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Prodigal, you have given me love—therefore I to you give love!
O unspeakable passionate love.

Thruster holding me tight and that I hold tight!

We hurt each other as the bridegroom and the bride hurt each other.

                                                    ~ Leaves Of Grass - Walt Whitman

My first acquaintance with Walt Whitman was via Romain Rolland's book named "Life of Swami Vivekananda". Romain Rolland dedicated a complete chapter to illustrate how the West was Intellectually ready to receive Vivekananda's message. He talks about Thoreau, Emerson, Walt Whitman at length. Rolland calls them the 'forerunners' of Vivekananda. While I hate Emerson's ugly mix of Bhagavadgita and personality development, I did like Walt Whitman's poetry. I read a couple of lines and I knew that this man would continue to inspire my imagination.

Walt Whitman often amazes me with his thoughts. Though an American by birth, he is Oriental of Orientals in thought!  

(to be contd.,)