I Hear America Singing

Falar da América, neste dia, sem falar de Walt Whitman, o maior poeta de sempre, seria quase um crime de lesa-majestade.

Walt Whitman (1819-1892) foi talvez de todos os autores norte-americanos aquele que mais "cantou" a América, com uma voz de esperança, de fascínio, mas sem nunca esquecer também todos os seus defeitos. Uma sua amiga referiu, "Não se pode compreender a América sem se ter lido Whitman, sem se ter lido Leaves of Grass", e mais tarde Ezra Pound diria a seu respeito, "Whitman é a América".

I Hear America Singing


I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear;
Those of mechanics—each one singing his, as it should be, blithe and strong;
The carpenter singing his, as he measures his plank or beam,
The mason singing his, as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work;
The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat—the deckhand singing on the steamboat deck;
The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench—the hatter singing as he stands;
The wood-cutter’s song—the ploughboy’s, on his way in the morning, or at the noon intermission, or at sundown;
The delicious singing of the mother—or of the young wife at work—or of the girl sewing or washing—
Each singing what belongs to her, and to none else;
The day what belongs to the day—
At night, the party of young fellows, robust, friendly,
Singing, with open mouths, their strong melodious songs.

in Leaves of Grass