|Re: grass as god...|
- Wednesday, August 10 2005, 4:00:10 (CEST)|
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When I heard the Learn’d Astronomer
by: Walt Whitman
WHEN I heard the learn’d astronomer;
When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me;
When I was shown the charts and the diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them;
When I, sitting, heard the astronomer, where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room,
How soon, unaccountable, I became tired and sick; 5
Till rising and gliding out, I wander’d off by myself,
In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time,
Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars.
>We always lose something magnificent when we try to explain, describe and analyze something. Mere words cannot explain something as brilliant and as complicated as a blade of grass.
>I don't need a freakin scientist's description of the complex properties of grass when I sit on freshly mowed lawn and smell it's intoxicating fragrance. I don't need someone on a fourm to tell me about the complex sugars produced in a blade of grass, when I can pluck a blade and taste the sweetness of it myself. I surely don't need a bunch of analysts to analyze the structure of a single blade, when I cut my lip putting a simple, tiny, weightless blade of grass in my mouth.
>It looses it's whole meaning and my experience of it as soon as I try to name the qualities and attributes of such a simple, yet elegant being.
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