Walt Whitman - Whispers Of Heavenly Death

Описание

WHISPERS of heavenly death, murmur'd I hear; Labial gossip of night sibilant chorals; Footsteps gently ascending mystical breezes, wafted soft and low; Ripples of unseen rivers tides of a current, flowing, forever flowing; (Or is it the plashing of tears? the measureless waters of human tears?) I see, just see, skyward, great cloud-masses; Mournfully, slowly they roll, silently swelling and mixing; With, at times, a half-dimm'd, sadden'd, far-off star, Appearing and disappearing. (Some parturition, rather some solemn, immortal birth: 10 On the frontiers, to eyes impenetrable, Some Soul is passing over.) Walt Whitman poemhunter.com/poem/whispers-of-heavenly-death/