The night is made of crystal.
There is no sound out there in the wild of concrete and glass and human minds asleep.
The wind is quiet, his breathe suspended.
The Moon fades, upon the sky of dark.
The room stays still, my ghost haunts it.
Darkness surrounds, in silent steps.
The city is dead, to live again.
The concrete walls fall, undisturbed.
The glass shatters, silently.
The human body sleeps, unaware.
The minds awake, his eye lies open.
The face of the dream draws near, with the glowing stars.
The dream is now free. And,
Though the city lies in pieces
And the body is dead, asleep,
The dream lives, to never die.
1
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.
2
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.
3
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
(for those who dare to dream)
