Poema 14

Despues de un fin de semana aburrido, melancólico ,rozando lo patético, no tengo mucho más que contar. Dejo un poema de Walt Whitman con el me siento identificada.


I am enamour’d of growing out-doors,

Of men that live among cattle, or taste of the ocean or woods,

Of the builders and steerers of ships, and the wielders of axes and mauls, and the drivers of horses;

I can eat and sleep with them week in and week out.


What is commonest, cheapest, nearest, easiest, is Me;

Me going in for my chances, spending for vast returns;

Adorning myself to bestow myself on the first that will take me;

Not asking the sky to come down to my good will;

Scattering it freely forever

Leaves of grass, Walt Whitman