I had a reminder outside my window this morning, lest I forget!
Rejoice & sing along!
I Hear America Singing
by Walt Whitman
I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear,
Those of mechanics, each one singing his, as it should be, blithe and strong,
The carpenter singing his, as he measures his plank or beam,
The mason singing his, as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work,
The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat, the deckhand singing on the steamboat deck,
The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench, the hatter singing as he stands,
The woodcutter's song, the ploughboy's on his way in the morning, or at the noon intermission, or at sundown,
The delicious singing of the mother, or of the young wife at work, or of the girl sewing or washing,
Each singing what belongs to her, and to none else,
The day what belongs to the day—at night, the party of young fellows, robust, friendly,
Singing, with open mouths, their strong melodious songs.
Can't wait to see what song Obama sings today!
3 comments:
Kathy, you have better poetic taste than President Obama or Elizabeth Alexander (although I suppose trying to keep pace with Walt would be difficult). The notion of singing one's work or story or existence is central to Australian aboriginal culture. The whole of this country is made up of songlines where tribes have walked across the landscape singing their legends into existence. A lovely notion which brings what seems a barren landscape to life.
Kathy - I will always rely on you to bring it home -- you always post the best poetry that make all things ring true - thank you my dear woman - miss ya
Roh - love the info in your comment - what a neat thing -- we need to get more culture going in the state - I think it is starting now.
Did you hear Rev Lowery's speech? It was awesome!
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