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Enfans d'Adam.

1.

TO the garden, the world, anew ascending,

Potent mates, daughters, sons, preluding,

The love, the life of their bodies, meaning and being,

Curious, here behold my resurrection, after slumber,

The revolving cycles, in their wide sweep, having          brought me again,

Amorous, mature—all beautiful to me—all won-          drous,

My limbs, and the quivering fire that ever plays

through them, for reasons, most wondrous;

Existing, I peer and penetrate still,

Content with the present—content with the past,

By my side, or back of me, Eve following,

Or in front, and I following her just the same.

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2.

FROM that of myself, without which I were nothing,

From what I am determined to make illustrious, even          if I stand sole among men,

From my own voice resonant—singing the phallus,

Singing the song of procreation,

Singing the need of superb children, and therein          superb grown people,

Singing the muscular urge and the blending,

Singing the bedfellow's song, (O resistless yearning!

O for any and each, the body correlative attracting!

O for you, whoever you are, your correlative body!          O it, more than all else, you delighting!)

From the pent up rivers of myself,

From the hungry gnaw that eats me night and day,

From native moments—from bashful pains—sing-          ing them,

Singing something yet unfound, though I have dili-          gently sought it, ten thousand years,

Singing the true song of the Soul, fitful, at random,

Singing what, to the Soul, entirely redeemed her, the          faithful one, the prostitute, who detained me when          I went to the city,

Singing the song of prostitutes;

Renascent with grossest Nature, or among animals,

Of that—of them, and what goes with them, my          poems informing,

Of the smell of apples and lemons—of the pairing          of birds,

Of the wet of woods—of the lapping of waves,

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Of the mad pushes of waves upon the land—I them          chanting,

The overture lightly sounding—the strain antici-          pating,

The welcome nearness—the sight of the perfect          body,

The swimmer swimming naked in the bath, or mo-          tionless on his back lying and floating,

The female form approaching—I, pensive, love-flesh          tremulous, aching;

The slave's body for sale—I, sternly, with harsh          voice, auctioneering,

The divine list, for myself or you, or for any one,          making,

The face—the limbs—the index from head to foot,          and what it arouses,

The mystic deliria—the madness amorous—the utter          abandonment,

(Hark, close and still, what I now whisper to you,

I love you—O you entirely possess me,

O I wish that you and I escape from the rest, and go          utterly off—O free and lawless,

Two hawks in the air—two fishes swimming in the          sea not more lawless than we;)

The furious storm through me careering—I passion-          ately trembling,

The oath of the inseparableness of two together—of          the woman that loves me, and whom I love more          than my life—That oath swearing,

(O I willingly stake all, for you!

O let me be lost, if it must be so!

O you and I—what is it to us what the rest do or          think?

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What is all else to us? only that we enjoy each other,          and exhaust each other, if it must be so;)

From the master—the pilot I yield the vessel to,

The general commanding me, commanding all—from          him permission taking,

From time the programme hastening, (I have loitered          too long, as it is;)

From sex—From the warp and from the woof,

(To talk to the perfect girl who understands me—the          girl of The States,

To waft to her these from my own lips—to effuse          them from my own body;)

From privacy—From frequent repinings alone,

From plenty of persons near, and yet the right person          not near,

From the soft sliding of hands over me, and thrusting          of fingers through my hair and beard,

From the long-sustained kiss upon the mouth or          bosom,

From the close pressure that makes me or any man          drunk, fainting with excess,

From what the divine husband knows—from the          work of fatherhood,

From exultation, victory, and relief—from the bed-          fellow's embrace in the night,

From the act-poems of eyes, hands, hips, and bosoms,

From the cling of the trembling arm,

From the bending curve and the clinch,

From side by side, the pliant coverlid off throwing,

From the one so unwilling to have me leave—and          me just as unwilling to leave,

(Yet a moment, O tender waiter, and I return,)

From the hour of shining stars and dropping dews,

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From the night, a moment, I, emerging, flitting out,

Celebrate you, enfans prepared for,

And you, stalwart loins.

3.

1   O MY children! O mates!

O the bodies of you, and of all men and women,          engirth me, and I engirth them,

O they will not let me off, nor I them, till I go with          them, respond to them,

And respond to the contact of them, and discorrupt          them, and charge them with the charge of the          Soul.

2   Was it doubted if those who corrupt their own bodies          conceal themselves?

And if those who defile the living are as bad as they          who defile the dead?

And if the body does not do as much as the Soul?

And if the body were not the Soul, what is the Soul?

3   The love of the body of man or woman balks account          —the body itself balks account,

That of the male is perfect, and that of the female is          perfect.

4   The expression of the face balks account,

But the expression of a well made man appears not          only in his face,

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It is in his limbs and joints also, it is curiously in the          joints of his hips and wrists,

It is in his walk, the carriage of his neck, the flex          of his waist and knees—dress does not hide          him,

The strong, sweet, supple quality he has, strikes          through the cotton and flannel,

To see him pass conveys as much as the best poem,          perhaps more,

You linger to see his back, and the back of his neck          and shoulder-side.

5   The sprawl and fulness of babes, the bosoms and          heads of women, the folds of their dress, their          style as we pass in the street, the contour of their          shape downwards,

The swimmer naked in the swimming bath, seen as          he swims through the transparent green-shine, or          lies with his face up, and rolls silently to and fro          in the heave of the water,

The bending forward and backward of rowers in row-          boats—the horseman in his saddle,

Girls, mothers, house-keepers, in all their perform-          ances,

The group of laborers seated at noon-time with their          open dinner-kettles, and their wives waiting,

The female soothing a child—the farmer's daughter          in the garden or cow-yard,

The young fellow hoeing corn—the sleigh-driver          guiding his six horses through the crowd,

The wrestle of wrestlers, two apprentice-boys, quite          grown, lusty, good-natured, native-born, out on          the vacant lot at sun-down, after work,

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The coats and caps thrown down, the embrace of love          and resistance,

The upper-hold and under-hold, the hair rumpled          over and blinding the eyes;

The march of firemen in their own costumes, the          play of masculine muscle through clean-setting          trousers and waist-straps,

The slow return from the fire, the pause when the          bell strikes suddenly again, and the listening on          the alert,

The natural, perfect, varied attitudes—the bent head,          the curved neck, and the counting,

Such-like I love—I loosen myself, pass freely, am at          the mother's breast with the little child,

Swim with the swimmers, wrestle with wrestlers,          march in line with the firemen, and pause, listen,          and count.

6   I knew a man,

He was a common farmer—he was the father of five          sons,

And in them were the fathers of sons—and in them          were the fathers of sons.

7   This man was of wonderful vigor, calmness, beauty          of person,

The shape of his head, the richness and breadth of          his manners, the pale yellow and white of his          hair and beard, and the immeasurable meaning          of his black eyes,

These I used to go and visit him to see—he was wise          also,

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He was six feet tall, he was over eighty years old—          his sons were massive, clean, bearded, tan-faced,          handsome,

They and his daughters loved him—all who saw him          loved him,

They did not love him by allowance—they loved him          with personal love;

He drank water only—the blood showed like scarlet          through the clear-brown skin of his face,

He was a frequent gunner and fisher—he sailed          his boat himself—he had a fine one presented          to him by a ship-joiner—he had fowling-          pieces, presented to him by men that loved          him;

When he went with his five sons and many grand-          sons to hunt or fish, you would pick him out          as the most beautiful and vigorous of the          gang,

You would wish long and long to be with him—you          would wish to sit by him in the boat, that you          and he might touch each other.

8   I have perceived that to be with those I like is          enough,

To stop in company with the rest at evening is          enough,

To be surrounded by beautiful, curious, breathing,          laughing flesh is enough,

To pass among them, or touch any one, or rest my          arm ever so lightly round his or her neck for a          moment—what is this, then?

I do not ask any more delight—I swim in it, as in          a sea.

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9   There is something in staying close to men and          women, and looking on them, and in the contact          and odor of them, that pleases the Soul well,

All things please the Soul—but these please the          Soul well.

10   This is the female form,

A divine nimbus exhales from it from head to foot,

It attracts with fierce undeniable attraction,

I am drawn by its breath as if I were no more than          a helpless vapor—all falls aside but myself          and it,

Books, art, religion, time, the visible and solid earth,          the atmosphere and the clouds, and what was          expected of heaven or feared of hell, are now          consumed,

Mad filaments, ungovernable shoots play out of it, the          response likewise ungovernable,

Hair, bosom, hips, bend of legs, negligent falling          hands, all diffused—mine too diffused,

Ebb stung by the flow, and flow stung by the ebb—          love-flesh swelling and deliciously aching,

Limitless limpid jets of love hot and enormous,          quivering jelly of love, white-blow and delirious          juice,

Bridegroom-night of love, working surely and softly          into the prostrate dawn,

Undulating into the willing and yielding day,

Lost in the cleave of the clasping and sweet-fleshed          day.

11   This is the nucleus—after the child is born of          woman, the man is born of woman,

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This is the bath of birth—this is the merge of small          and large, and the outlet again.

12   Be not ashamed, women—your privilege encloses          the rest, and is the exit of the rest,

You are the gates of the body, and you are the gates          of the Soul.

13   The female contains all qualities, and tempers them          —she is in her place, and moves with perfect          balance,

She is all things duly veiled—she is both passive and          active,

She is to conceive daughters as well as sons, and sons          as well as daughters.

14   As I see my Soul reflected in nature,

As I see through a mist, one with inexpressible com-          pleteness and beauty,

See the bent head and arms folded over the breast—          the female I see.

15   The male is not less the Soul, nor more—he too is in          his place,

He too is all qualities—he is action and power,

The flush of the known universe is in him,

Scorn becomes him well, and appetite and defiance          become him well,

The wildest largest passions, bliss that is utmost,          sorrow that is utmost, become him well—pride          is for him,

The full-spread pride of man is calming and excellent          to the Soul;

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Knowledge becomes him—he likes it always—he          brings everything to the test of himself,

Whatever the survey, whatever the sea and the sail,          he strikes soundings at last only here,

Where else does he strike soundings, except here?

16   The man's body is sacred, and the woman's body is          sacred,

No matter who it is, it is sacred;

Is it a slave? Is it one of the dull-faced immigrants          just landed on the wharf?

Each belongs here or anywhere just as much as the          well-off—just as much as you,

Each has his or her place in the procession.

17   All is a procession,

The universe is a procession, with measured and          beautiful motion.

18   Do you know so much yourself, that you call the slave          or the dull-face ignorant?

Do you suppose you have a right to a good sight, and          he or she has no right to a sight?

Do you think matter has cohered together from its          diffused float—and the soil is on the surface,          and water runs, and vegetation sprouts,

For you only, and not for him and her?

19   A man's body at auction!

I help the auctioneer—the sloven does not half know          his business.

20   Gentlemen, look on this wonder!

Whatever the bids of the bidders, they cannot be high          enough for it,

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For it the globe lay preparing quintillions of years,          without one animal or plant,

For it the revolving cycles truly and steadily rolled.

21   In this head the all-baffling brain,

In it and below it, the making of the attributes of          heroes.

22   Examine these limbs, red, black, or white—they are          so cunning in tendon and nerve,

They shall be stript, that you may see them.

23   Exquisite senses, life-lit eyes, pluck, volition,

Flakes of breast-muscle, pliant back-bone and neck,          flesh not flabby, good-sized arms and legs,

And wonders within there yet.

24   Within there runs blood,

The same old blood!

The same red-running blood!

There swells and jets a heart—there all passions,          desires, reachings, aspirations,

Do you think they are not there because they are not          expressed in parlors and lecture-rooms?

25   This is not only one man—this is the father of those          who shall be fathers in their turns,

In him the start of populous states and rich republics,

Of him countless immortal lives, with countless em-          bodiments and enjoyments.

26   How do you know who shall come from the offspring          of his offspring through the centuries?

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Who might you find you have come from yourself, if          you could trace back through the centuries?

27   A woman's body at auction!

She too is not only herself—she is the teeming          mother of mothers,

She is the bearer of them that shall grow and be          mates to the mothers.

28   Her daughters, or their daughters' daughters—who          knows who shall mate with them?

Who knows through the centuries what heroes may          come from them?

29   In them, and of them, natal love—in them that          divine mystery, the same old beautiful mystery.

30   Have you ever loved the body of a woman?

Have you ever loved the body of a man?

Your father—where is your father?

Your mother—is she living? have you been much          with her? and has she been much with you?

Do you not see that these are exactly the same to all,          in all nations and times, all over the earth?

31   If any thing is sacred, the human body is sacred,

And the glory and sweet of a man, is the token of          manhood untainted,

And in man or woman, a clean, strong, firm-fibred          body, is beautiful as the most beautiful face.

32   Have you seen the fool that corrupted his own live          body? or the fool that corrupted her own live          body?

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For they do not conceal themselves, and cannot con-          ceal themselves.

33   O my body! I dare not desert the likes of you in          other men and women, nor the likes of the parts          of you;

I believe the likes of you are to stand or fall with the          likes of the Soul, (and that they are the Soul,)          I believe the likes of you shall stand or fall with my          poems—and that they are poems,

Man's, woman's, child's, youth's, wife's, husband's,          mother's, father's, young man's, young woman's          poems,

Head, neck, hair, ears, drop and tympan of the ears,

Eyes, eye-fringes, iris of the eye, eye-brows, and the          waking or sleeping of the lids,

Mouth, tongue, lips, teeth, roof of the mouth, jaws,          and the jaw-hinges,

Nose, nostrils of the nose, and the partition,

Cheeks, temples, forehead, chin, throat, back of the          neck, neck-slue,

Strong shoulders, manly beard, scapula, hind-shoul-          ders, and the ample side-round of the chest,

Upper-arm, arm-pit, elbow-socket, lower-arm, arm-          sinews, arm-bones,

Wrist and wrist-joints, hand, palm, knuckles, thumb,          fore-finger, finger-balls, finger-joints, finger-nails,

Broad breast-front, curling hair of the breast, breast-          bone, breast-side,

Ribs, belly, back-bone, joints of the back-bone,

Hips, hip-sockets, hip-strength, inward and outward          round, man-balls, man-root,

Strong set of thighs, well carrying the trunk above,

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Leg-fibres, knee, knee-pan, upper-leg, under-leg,

Ankles, instep, foot-ball, toes, toe-joints, the heel,

All attitudes, all the shapeliness, all the belongings of          my or your body, or of any one's body, male or          female,

The lung-sponges, the stomach-sac, the bowels sweet          and clean,

The brain in its folds inside the skull-frame,

Sympathies, heart-valves, palate-valves, sexuality, ma-          ternity,

Womanhood, and all that is a woman—and the man          that comes from woman,

The womb, the teats, nipples, breast-milk, tears, laugh-          ter, weeping, love-looks, love-perturbations and          risings,

The voice, articulation, language, whispering, shout-          ing aloud,

Food, drink, pulse, digestion, sweat, sleep, walking,          swimming,

Poise on the hips, leaping, reclining, embracing, arm-          curving, and tightening,

The continual changes of the flex of the mouth, and          around the eyes,

The skin, the sun-burnt shade, freckles, hair,

The curious sympathy one feels, when feeling with          the hand the naked meat of his own body, or          another person's body,

The circling rivers, the breath, and breathing it in          and out,

The beauty of the waist, and thence of the hips, and          thence downward toward the knees,

The thin red jellies within you, or within me—the          bones, and the marrow in the bones,

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The exquisite realization of health,

O I say now these are not the parts and poems of the          body only, but of the Soul,

O I say these are the Soul!

4.

1   A WOMAN waits for me—she contains all, nothing is          lacking,

Yet all were lacking, if sex were lacking, or if the          moisture of the right man were lacking.

2   Sex contains all,

Bodies, Souls, meanings, proofs, purities, delicacies,          results, promulgations,

Songs, commands, health, pride, the maternal mystery,          the semitic milk,

All hopes, benefactions, bestowals,

All the passions, loves, beauties, delights of the          earth,

All the governments, judges, gods, followed persons          of the earth,

These are contained in sex, as parts of itself, and jus-          tifications of itself.

3   Without shame the man I like knows and avows the          deliciousness of his sex,

Without shame the woman I like knows and avows          hers.

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4   O I will fetch bully breeds of children yet!

I will dismiss myself from impassive women,

I will go stay with her who waits for me, and with          those women that are warm-blooded and suffi-          cient for me;

I see that they understand me, and do not deny me,

I see that they are worthy of me—I will be the robust          husband of those women.

5   They are not one jot less than I am,

They are tanned in the face by shining suns and blow-          ing winds,

Their flesh has the old divine suppleness and strength,

They know how to swim, row, ride, wrestle, shoot,          run, strike, retreat, advance, resist, defend them-          selves,

They are ultimate in their own right—they are calm,          clear, well-possessed of themselves.