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 | Leaves of grass. |  |
YOU FELONS ON TRIAL IN COURTS.
1 You felons on trial
in courts;
You convicts in prison-cells — you sentenced assassins, chain'd and hand-cuff'd with iron;
Who am I, too, that I am not on trial, or in prison?
Me, ruthless and devilish as any, that my wrists are not chain'd with iron, or my ankles with iron?
2 You prostitutes flaunting over the trottoirs, or ob- scene in your rooms,
Who am I, that I should call you more obscene than myself?
3 O culpable! O traitor!
I acknowledge — I exposé!
(O admirers! praise not me! compliment not me! you make me wince,
I see what you do not — I know what you do not;)
Inside these breast-bones I lie smutch'd and choked;
Beneath this face that appears so impassive, hell's tides continually run;
Lusts and wickedness are acceptable to me;
I walk with delinquents with passionate love;
I feel I am of them — I belong to those convicts and prostitutes myself,
And henceforth I will not deny them — for how can I deny myself?
You convicts in prison-cells — you sentenced assassins, chain'd and hand-cuff'd with iron;
Who am I, too, that I am not on trial, or in prison?
Me, ruthless and devilish as any, that my wrists are not chain'd with iron, or my ankles with iron?
2 You prostitutes flaunting over the trottoirs, or ob- scene in your rooms,
Who am I, that I should call you more obscene than myself?
337
I acknowledge — I exposé!
(O admirers! praise not me! compliment not me! you make me wince,
I see what you do not — I know what you do not;)
Inside these breast-bones I lie smutch'd and choked;
Beneath this face that appears so impassive, hell's tides continually run;
Lusts and wickedness are acceptable to me;
I walk with delinquents with passionate love;
I feel I am of them — I belong to those convicts and prostitutes myself,
And henceforth I will not deny them — for how can I deny myself?
| Leaves of grass. | |