En vano te hemos prodigado el oce ano, En vano el sol, que vieron los maravillados ojos de Whitman; Has gastado los an os y te has gastado, Y todav|a no has escrito el poema. We have lavished the ocean on you in vain, In vain the sun that was seen by Whitman's astounded eyes; You have spent your years and you have spent yourself, But you haven't written the poem yet.
Si hay poes|a en nuestra Ame rica, ella esta en las cosas viejas: en Palenke y Uatla n, en el indio legendario y el inca sensual y fino y en el gran Moctezuma de la silla de oro. Lo dema s es tuyo, demo crataWaltWhitman. If there is poetry in our America, it is in ancient items: in Palenke and Uatla n, in the legendary Indian and in the sensuous and elegant Inca and the great Moctezuma. The rest is yours, democratic Walt Whitman.
I always knew in my heart Walt Whitman's mind to be more like my own than any other man's living.
Where do you get your taste in authorsThat damned library of yours! (He indicates the small bookcase at rear.) Voltaire, Rousseau, Schopenhauer, Nietzsche, Ibsen! Atheists, fools, and madmen! And your poets! This Dowson, and this Baudelaire, and Swinburne and O'Neill Oscar Wilde, and Whitman and Poe! Whoremongers and degenerates! Pah! When I've three good sets of Shakespeare there (he nods at the large bookcase) you could read.
I make a pact with you,Walt Whitman I have detested you long enough. I come to you as a grown child Who has had a pig-headed father I am old enough not to make friends.
Webster's New World Dictionary of Quotations Copyright © 2010 by Chambers Harrap Publishers Ltd. All rights reserved. Published by Wiley, Hoboken, NJ. Used by arrangement with John Wiley & Sons, Inc.
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