Friday, April 10, 2009

On the Beach at Night

On the Beach at Night, by Walt Whitman
 
On the beach at night,
Stands a child with her father,
Watching the east, the autumn sky.
 
Up through the darkness,
While ravening clouds, the burial clouds, in black masses
     spreading,
Lower sullen and fast athwart and down the sky,
Amid a transparent clear belt of ether yet left in the east,
Ascends large and calm the lord-star Jupiter,
And nigh at hand, only a very little above,
Swim the delicate sisters the Pleiades.
 
From the beach the child holding the hand of her father,
Those burial-clouds that lower victorious soon to devour all,
Watching, silently weeps.
 
Weep not, my child,
Weep not, my darling,
With these kisses let me remove your tears,
The ravening clouds shall not long be victorious,
They shall not long possess the sky, they devour the stars only
      in apparition,
Jupiter shall emerge, be patient, watch again another night, the
     Pleiades shall emerge,
They are immortal, all those stars both silvery and golden shall
     shine out again,
The great stars and the little ones shall shine out again, they
     endure,
The vast immortal suns and the long-enduring pensive moons
     shall again shine.
 
Then dearest child mournest thou only for Jupiter?
Considerest thou alone the burial of the stars?
 
Something there is,
(With my lips soothing thee, adding I whisper,
I give thee the first suggestion, the problem and indirection,)
Something there is more immortal than the stars,
(Many the burials, many the days and night, passing away,)
Something that shall endure longer even than lustrous Jupiter,
Longer than sun or any revolving satellite,
Or the radiant sisters the Pleiades.
 
Submitted by Elana Abrams