black moonlight ocean sonata...

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.

Walt Whitman

Υγ το απόλυτο πολιτικό ποίημα…

κάθε φορά που το διαβάζω, ανακαλύπτω ξανά

πόσο μικροί κι ασήμαντοι είμαστε…
Το θυμήθηκα χθες διαβάζοντας τον ετήσιο απολογισμό

ενός μεγάλου ξένου πολιτικού…που ακόμη

ψιλοθαυμάζω και καθώς τον είδα να κάθεται και να

μιλά με υποσχέσεις, ενώ στην ουσία δεν έχει δείξει

ακόμα κάτι στέρεο, σκέφτηκα:

O Captain! my Captain!

rise up and hear the bells!

το μουσικό κομμάτι ακούστε το όλο…

ocean moonlight sonata

Εξαίσιος Beethoven που ταιριάζει τόσο με τη θάλασσα

και την αποψινή μαύρη πανσέληνο…