I stayed at home all day today and didn’t know what to write. I came across a new poem ~ Whitman ~ I can’t, and I want to share it with you:

My self, Nature,

loving day, rising sun,

my friend with whom I happily linger,

my friend’s arm resting lazily on mine On the shoulders,

The hillsides turned white by the blooming peppercorns,

The same late autumn, red, yellow, light brown, purple, and deep and light green,

Rich spreads of grass, animals and birds, hidden

Uncut banks, wild apples, pebbles,

Beautiful dripping fragments, One neglected fragment after another

When I accidentally call them back to me or think of them,

The real poem, (what we call poem is just a picture,)

A hidden poem about the night, a poem about men like me,

This invisible poem that hangs shyly, I always carry it with me, as all men do With,

(To understand thoroughly, as a conscious adult, wherever there are men like me, there are poems about us strong, latent men,)

Thoughts of love, Love's juice, love's smell, love's surrender, love's climber, and climbing sap

Love's arms and hands, love's lips, love's phallic thumb, love's Breasts,

Bellys that are stuck together because of love,

The land of chaste love, after love is the life of life,

The body of my love, the body of the woman I love, the body of man, the body of the earth,

The gentle noon breeze blowing from the southwest,

that A buzzing, hairy wild bee flew up and down, grabbing the fully developed female flower, bending its passionate and strong legs to press on top of her,

enjoying herself at the mercy of, holding on tremblingly until contentment is achieved;

The woods were wet all morning,

Two sleepers lay close together at night,

p>

One stretched an arm diagonally from under the other's waist,

The smell of apples, crushed sage, mint, and birch bark,

The boy's longing, his glowing and nervous expression as he confided his dreams to me trustingly,

The dead leaves swirled and fell, falling to the ground calmly and contentedly,

< p> The invisible spikes of sights, people, objects, sting me

The spikes of my ego sting me as much as they sting anyone else,

The sensitive, spherical brothers, enveloped from below,

Only privileged feelers know their location,

Curious wandering hands roam the body , where the fingers gently stop and move slowly, the muscles shrink shyly,

The transparent liquid in the young man's body,

The distressing erosion is so melancholy and painful,

That torment, that impatience that never subsides,

I feel this way, and others also feel this way,

The look on my face becomes more and more intense. The young man who is getting flushed, and the young woman whose face is getting flushed,

The young man who wakes up late at night, his hot hands try to suppress the impulse that dominates him,

That mysterious and passionate night, that strange and semi-welcoming pain, hallucination, sweat,

The pounding and vibrating pulse in the palm of my hand also surrounds all the fingers,

< p> The young man who was all hot and red, ashamed and angry;

The salt that my sea lover sprinkled on me, when I lay willingly naked,

< p> The twins crawling and playing on the grass in the sun, the mother's ever-watchful gaze,

The walnut tree trunks, walnut shells, ripening or already ripe oval walnuts,

That moderation of plants, birds, animals,

The sense of meanness I feel when I am sneaky or consciously obscene,

Birds and animals never Sneaky or consciously obscene,

The great chastity of the father's line is worthy of the great chastity of the mother's line,

The vow of procreation I have made, my daughters as fresh as Adam ,

Use the torture of hunger to eat away at my greed day and night until I am saturated,

until I give birth to a boy who can take my place when I am finished,

Complete relief, rest, contentment,

And this random bouquet of flowers from my self,

has done its job - I tossed it carelessly , let it fall wherever it wants.

PS:

Walt Whitman was born in Long Island, New York State on May 31, 1819 and died in March 1892. On the 26th, he experienced many changes in his life. His father was a farmer. In his childhood, Whitman did errands of delivering letters and typesetting. Later he worked as a rural teacher and also worked in a newspaper office. He is one of the most influential poets in the United States, a typical humanist who created free verse poetry, and most of his life's works are included in "Leaves of Grass." Utopian socialist ideas and democratic ideas interested Whitman very much and had a great influence on his creation.

Whitman has an incomparable love for every plant, tree, mountain and water that exists in nature, so he often uses delicate brushwork in his poems to express great emotions from the smallest things. . In the poem "Instinct I", Whitman describes nature and expresses man's most primitive desires and the vitality of reproduction in a very smooth way that is transferred to human beings. At the beginning of the poem, the poet describes the mating process of two bees in detail, and then details the scene of two young people expressing their love. In the social atmosphere dominated by traditional British culture at the time, such descriptions of natural desires were often indistinguishable from pornography and were easily denounced. From the perspective of human nature, sex does not matter whether it is beautiful or ugly or good or bad. It is just a natural desire of human beings and an instinct for reproduction. Whitman called sex the foundation of human beings and life. He affirmed human sexual desire from the perspective of democratic needs. It can be seen that Whitman's serious democracy has transcended the connotation of political science and sociology and has a deep meaning of humanistic care. In Western culture, the word "nature" contains the meaning of "inner nature." From this aspect, Whitman's desire to affirm and praise human existence as a natural attribute is also a kind of eulogy for nature. Whitman relied on this ingenious connection to break the shackles of Christian asceticism, and expressed and praised the sexual desire of human beings as divinity. The intention is to transcend various limitations and constraints imposed by humans on themselves and express natural and eternal topics.

Through literature, Whitman’s views on sex are different from Wordsworth’s view of the Garden of Humanity and David Thoreau’s exploration of the spiritual home of mankind. He directly targets everyone. An individual, praising the beauty of his desires and body. If Whitman wants to praise those natural, healthy, and eternal things, it is impossible to avoid the most basic needs of human beings. This is an affirmation of human nature and original vitality, and implies Americans' introspection of their inner self. It inspired the American nation to rethink human nature.

According to Whitman’s point of view, man and nature are inextricably intertwined. What he repeatedly eulogized through his beautiful verses and delicate brushwork was that people with primitive nature in this natural world are like those exposed on the surface of the earth. People who look like rocks and branches. Therefore, he affirms the physical desires of human beings and considers them to be natural needs. He also likes to describe the human body in the natural environment and place it in its ancient primitive state. In addition to advocating the return of human physical desires, Whitman also advocated the return of human spirit and soul. In his view, nature is not only a symbol of the life of all things, but also a symbol of its spirit. It is nature according to pantheism. The human soul and its body are equal; human beings are a combination of material existence and spirit, and a combination of soul and body. unified.