Walt Whitman (Уолт Уитмен)

Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 30. Continuities

Nothing is ever really lost, or can be lost,
No birth, identity, form—no object of the world.
Nor life, nor force, nor any visible thing;
Appearance must not foil, nor shifted sphere confuse thy brain.
Ample are time and space—ample the fields of Nature.
The body, sluggish, aged, cold—the embers left from earlier fires,
The light in the eye grown dim, shall duly flame again;
The sun now low in the west rises for mornings and for noons continual;
To frozen clods ever the spring's invisible law returns,
With grass and flowers and summer fruits and corn.

1. Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 10. Queries to My Seventieth Year
2. Leaves of Grass. 35. Good-Bye My Fancy. 25. “The Rounded Catalogue Divine Complete”
3. Leaves of Grass. 4. Children of Adam. 15. Facing West from California's Shores
4. Leaves of Grass. 20. By the Roadside. 8. Perfections
5. Leaves of Grass. 20. By the Roadside. 22. Thought (Of justice—as If could be any thing but the same ample law)

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