jeudi 28 avril 2016
vendredi 15 avril 2016
Walt Whiteman - Homage to Abraham Lincoln / assassiné le 14 Avril 1865
- O Captain! My Captain!
- O Captain! My Captain! our fearful trip is done;
- The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won;
- The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
- While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring
- But O heart! heart! heart!
- O the bleeding drops of red,
- Where on the deck my Captain lies,
- Fallen cold and dead.
- O Captain! My Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
- Rise up — for you the flag is flung — for you the bugle trills;
- For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths — for you the shores a-crowding;
- For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning
- Here Captain! dear father!
- This arm beneath your head;
- It is some dream that on the deck,
- You've fallen cold and dead.
- My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
- My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
- The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
- From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won
- Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!
- But I with mournful tread,
- Walk the deck my Captain lies,
- Fallen cold and dead.
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