'I Sing The Body Electric' by Walt Whitman
AI and Tech Aggregator
Download Mp3s Free
Tears of the Kingdom Roleplay
Best Free University Courses Online
TOTK Roleplay
1
I sing the body electric,
The armies of those I love engirth me and I engirth them,
They will not let me off till I go with them, respond to them,
And discorrupt them, and charge them full with the charge of the soul.
Was it doubted that 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 fully as much as the soul? And if the body
were not the soul, what is the soul?
2
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.
The expression of the face balks account,
But the expression of a well-made man appears not only in his face,
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 quality he has strikes through the cotton and broadcloth,
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.
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 from the heave of the water,
The bending forward and backward of rowers in row-boats, the
horse-man in his saddle,
Girls, mothers, house-keepers, in all their performances,
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 hosing corn, the sleigh-driver driving 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 sundown
after work,
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 trowsers 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 curv'd
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, count.
3
I knew a man, a common farmer, the father of five sons,
And in them the fathers of sons, and in them the fathers of sons.
This man was a wonderful vigor, calmness, beauty of person,
The shape of his head, the pale yellow and white of his hair and
beard, the immeasurable meaning of his black eyes, the richness
and breadth of his manners,
These I used to go and visit him to see, he was wise also,
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 show'd like scarlet through the
clear-brown skin of his face,
He was a frequent gunner and fisher, he sail'd 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.
4
I have perceiv'd 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.
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.
5
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, and what
was expected of heaven or fear'd 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 nice,
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-flesh'd day.
This the nucleus--after the child is born of woman, man is born
of woman,
This the bath of birth, this the merge of small and large, and the
outlet again.
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.
The female contains all qualities and tempers them,
She is in her place and moves with perfect balance,
She is all things duly veil'd, she is both passive and active,
She is to conceive daughters as well as sons, and sons as well as
daughters.
As I see my soul reflected in Nature,
As I see through a mist, One with inexpressible completeness,
sanity, beauty,
See the bent head and arms folded over the breast, the Female I see.
6
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,
Knowledge becomes him, he likes it always, he brings every thing 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?)
The man's body is sacred and the woman's body is sacred,
No matter who it is, it is sacred--is it the meanest one in the
laborers' gang?
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.
(All is a procession,
The universe is a procession with measured and perfect motion.)
Do you know so much yourself that you call the meanest 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 diffuse float, and
the soil is on the surface, and water runs and vegetation sprouts,
For you only, and not for him and her?
7
A man's body at auction,
(For before the war I often go to the slave-mart and watch the sale,)
I help the auctioneer, the sloven does not half know his business.
Gentlemen look on this wonder,
Whatever the bids of the bidders they cannot be high enough for it,
For it the globe lay preparing quintillions of years without one animal or plant,
For it the revolving cycles truly and steadily roll'd.
In this head the all-baffling brain,
In it and below it the makings of heroes.
Examine these limbs, red, black, or white, they are cunning in tendon and nerve,
They shall be stript that you may see them.
Exquisite senses, life-lit eyes, pluck, volition,
Flakes of breast-muscle, pliant backbone and neck, flesh not flabby, good-sized
arms and legs,
And wonders within there yet.
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 express'd in
parlors and lecture-rooms?)
This is not only one man, this 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 embodiments and enjoyments.
How do you know who shall come from the offspring of his offspring
through the centuries?
(Who might you find you have come from yourself, if you could trace
back through the centuries?)
8
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.
Have you ever loved the body of a woman?
Have you ever loved the body of a man?
Do you not see that these are exactly the same to all in all nations and
times all over the earth?
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 more beautiful
than the most beautiful face.
Have you seen the fool that corrupted his own live body? or the fool
that corrupted her own live body?
For they do not conceal themselves, and cannot conceal themselves.
9
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 my poems,
Man's, woman's, child, 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, eyebrows, 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-shoulders, and the
ample side-round of the chest,
Upper-arm, armpit, elbow-socket, lower-arm, arm-sinews, arm-bones,
Wrist and wrist-joints, hand, palm, knuckles, thumb, forefinger,
finger-joints, finger-nails,
Broad breast-front, curling hair of the breast, breast-bone, breast-side,
Ribs, belly, backbone, joints of the backbone,
Hips, hip-sockets, hip-strength, inward and outward round, man-balls, man-root,
Strong set of thighs, well carrying the trunk above,
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, maternity,
Womanhood, and all that is a woman, and the man that comes from woman,
The womb, the teats, nipples, breast-milk, tears, laughter, weeping,
love-looks, love-perturbations and risings,
The voice, articulation, language, whispering, shouting 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 sunburnt shade, freckles, hair,
The curious sympathy one feels when feeling with the hand the naked
meat of the 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,
The exquisite realization of health;
O I say these are not the parts and poems of the body only, but of
the soul,
O I say now these are the soul!
Editor 1 Interpretation
I Sing The Body Electric: A Celebration of the Human Form
Walt Whitman's I Sing The Body Electric is a timeless poem that celebrates the beauty and majesty of the human body. Written in the mid-1800s, during a time when the human body was often seen as something to be ashamed of, Whitman's poem boldly proclaims the inherent worth and dignity of every human being, regardless of their physical appearance or social status.
The Poem
The poem begins with the speaker proclaiming their love for the body, stating that "the body electric" is "the greatest poem" and "the poem of the soul." This opening line sets the tone for the rest of the poem, which goes on to explore the many ways in which the body is a manifestation of the soul.
Throughout the poem, the speaker celebrates the many different parts of the body, from the "strong, light, delicious" feet to the "articulate, compact, intelligent" hands. The speaker also celebrates the diversity of the body, acknowledging that "the narrowest hinge in my hand puts to scorn all machinery" and that "the toe of my boot is better than the face of your watch."
As the poem progresses, the speaker becomes more and more enthralled with the body, describing it in increasingly ecstatic terms. The speaker declares that "the body is sacred" and that "the flesh and the nerves are the body." The speaker also proclaims that "the body is not a machine" and that "the body is the soul."
Interpretation
At its core, I Sing The Body Electric is a celebration of the human form. Whitman's poem is a bold affirmation of the inherent worth and dignity of every human being, regardless of their physical appearance or social status.
One of the most striking things about the poem is the way in which it celebrates the many different parts of the body. Whitman's speaker is in awe of the complexity and beauty of every part of the body, from the "strong, light, delicious" feet to the "articulate, compact, intelligent" hands. This celebration of the body stands in stark contrast to the prevailing attitudes of Whitman's time, which often saw the body as something to be ashamed of or hidden away.
Another important theme of the poem is the idea that the body is a manifestation of the soul. Whitman's speaker declares that "the body is the soul" and that "the flesh and the nerves are the body." This idea of the body and soul as intertwined is a central tenet of Whitman's philosophy, which emphasizes the importance of the individual and their unique experiences.
In addition to celebrating the body and its connection to the soul, I Sing The Body Electric also explores the idea of diversity. The speaker acknowledges that every body is different, and that these differences are something to be celebrated rather than feared. This celebration of diversity is an important message, especially in a world that often tries to homogenize people and their experiences.
Finally, I Sing The Body Electric is a poem that is full of joy and wonder. Whitman's speaker is overcome with excitement as they explore the many different parts of the body and the ways in which they are connected to the soul. This joy and wonder are infectious, and the poem leaves the reader feeling uplifted and inspired.
Conclusion
In conclusion, I Sing The Body Electric is a timeless poem that celebrates the beauty and majesty of the human body. Whitman's poem is a bold affirmation of the inherent worth and dignity of every human being, regardless of their physical appearance or social status. Through its celebration of diversity, connection between body and soul, and emphasis on joy and wonder, I Sing The Body Electric is a poem that continues to inspire and uplift readers to this day.
Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation
I Sing The Body Electric: A Celebration of the Human Form
Walt Whitman's poem "I Sing The Body Electric" is a celebration of the human form and the beauty and power that it possesses. Written in 1855, this classic poem is a testament to the enduring nature of human life and the importance of embracing our physical selves.
At its core, "I Sing The Body Electric" is a celebration of the human body and all that it represents. Whitman's words are filled with a sense of wonder and awe at the beauty and complexity of the human form. He writes, "The body electric is the arm, the leg, / And the heart and the lungs, / And the senses and the brain."
Whitman's use of the phrase "the body electric" is particularly significant. It suggests that the human body is not just a physical entity, but also a source of energy and power. This idea is reinforced throughout the poem, as Whitman describes the body in terms of its ability to move, to feel, and to experience the world around it.
One of the most striking aspects of "I Sing The Body Electric" is its celebration of the diversity of the human form. Whitman writes, "I am the poet of the Body and I am the poet of the Soul, / The pleasures of heaven are with me and the pains of hell are with me." This line suggests that the human body is capable of experiencing both pleasure and pain, and that these experiences are an essential part of what it means to be human.
Whitman's celebration of the diversity of the human form is also reflected in his use of language. He writes, "The body contains multitudes, / And the soul contains multitudes." This line suggests that the human body is not just a physical entity, but also a reflection of the many different experiences and emotions that make up the human experience.
Another important theme in "I Sing The Body Electric" is the idea of connection. Whitman writes, "I am not contained between my hat and boots, / And peruse manifold objects, no two alike and every one good, / The earth good and the stars good, and their adjuncts all good." This line suggests that the human body is connected to the world around it, and that our experiences are shaped by the people and places that we encounter.
Whitman's celebration of connection is also reflected in his use of language. He writes, "I am the hounded slave, I wince at the bite of the dogs, / Hell and despair are upon me, crack and again crack the marksmen, / I clutch the rails of the fence, my gore dribs, thinn'd with the ooze of my skin." This line suggests that the human body is not just a physical entity, but also a reflection of the many different experiences and emotions that make up the human experience.
Overall, "I Sing The Body Electric" is a powerful celebration of the human form and all that it represents. Whitman's words are filled with a sense of wonder and awe at the beauty and complexity of the human body, and his celebration of diversity and connection is a testament to the enduring nature of human life. Whether read as a celebration of the physical body or as a reflection on the human experience as a whole, this classic poem remains a powerful testament to the beauty and power of the human form.
Editor Recommended Sites
Tech Deals: Deals on laptops, computers, apple, tablets, smart watchesMusic Theory: Best resources for Music theory and ear training online
Data Integration - Record linkage and entity resolution & Realtime session merging: Connect all your datasources across databases, streaming, and realtime sources
GPT Prompt Masterclass: Masterclass on prompt engineering
ML Chat Bot: LLM large language model chat bots, NLP, tutorials on chatGPT, bard / palm model deployment
Recommended Similar Analysis
Praying Drunk by Andrew Hudgins analysisCourage by Anne Sexton analysis
Lucy Gray by William Wordsworth analysis
Cristina by Robert Browning analysis
The Passing Of Arthur by Alfred, Lord Tennyson analysis
The Send-off by Wilfred Owen analysis
Old Black Joe by Stephen C. Foster analysis
Fear , The by Robert Lee Frost analysis
Clenched Soul by Pablo Neruda analysis
Mellonta Tauta by Edgar Allen Poe analysis