lördag 14 september 2019


Song of the Open Road, I

Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose.

Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune,
Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing,
Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms,
Strong and content I travel the open road.

The earth, that is sufficient,
I do not want the constellations any nearer,
I know they are very well where they are,
I know they suffice for those who belong to them.

(Still here I carry my old delicious burdens,
I carry them, men and women, I carry them with me wherever I go,
I swear it is impossible for me to get rid of them,
I am fill'd with them, and I will fill them in return.)
                                                                                Walt Whitman 

Autumn Roadside, 

Jag börjar dagen med att läsa de första verserna i Walt Whitmans poem "Song of the Open Road", och bär dem med mig på min promenad denna perfekta septembermorgon.
Efter en stund inser jag att jag omedvetet måste ha associerat till en sång jag inte sjungit eller hört på mycket länge, för jag inser att jag nynnar på "Swinging along the Open Road".

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