Arms and the man I sing, who, forced by fate
And haughty Juno's unrelenting hate,
Expelled and exiled, left the Trojan shore.
Long labors, both by sea and land, he bore;
And in the doubtful war, before he won
The Latin realm and built the destined town,
His banished gods restored to rights divine,
And settled sure succession in his line;
From whence the race of Alban fathers come,
And the long glories of majestic Rome.
......
Ah, not this marble, dead and cold:
Far from its base and shaft expanding—the round zones circling,
comprehending,
Thou, Washington, art all the world's, the continents' entire—
not yours alone, America,
Europe's as well, in every part, castle of lord or laborer's cot,
Or frozen North, or sultry South—the African's—the Arab's in
his tent,
......
You are my pain and my cure
You are my weakness and my strength
You are my fatherland
But you have treated me like an outcast
A person with no heritage
A person of desolate origin
I believed in you
Like I believed in myself
Yet I failed myself and you failed me
......
Gently make haste, of Labour not afraid;
A hundred times consider what you've said:
Polish, repolish, every Colour lay,
And sometimes add; but oft'ner take away.
‘Tis not enough, when swarming Faults are writ,
That here and there are scattered Sparks of Wit;
Each Object must be fix'd in the due place,
And diff'ring parts have Corresponding Grace:
‘Till, by a curious Art dispos'd, we find
One perfect whole, of all the pieces join'd.
......
Yes, there was a time
I was obsessed by melancholy,
I saw deep sadness,
The quality that so tormented
My former favoured idols,
Poets, painters,
Musicians, actors,
Creators of every kind,
As glamorous and romantic,
But it’s not,
......
they have what it takes
like sunset colors on blue
strength guts and virtue
like the orange sun
they are natural leaders
in red robin days
like rainbow colors
they have that extra something
......
You are my pain and my cure
You are my weakness and my strength
You are my fatherland
But you have treated me like an outcast
A person with no heritage
A person of desolate origin
I believed in you
Like I believed in myself
Yet I failed myself and you failed me
......
Yes, there was a time
I was obsessed by melancholy,
I saw deep sadness,
The quality that so tormented
My former favoured idols,
Poets, painters,
Musicians, actors,
Creators of every kind,
As glamorous and romantic,
But it’s not,
......
Ah, not this marble, dead and cold:
Far from its base and shaft expanding—the round zones circling,
comprehending,
Thou, Washington, art all the world's, the continents' entire—
not yours alone, America,
Europe's as well, in every part, castle of lord or laborer's cot,
Or frozen North, or sultry South—the African's—the Arab's in
his tent,
......
Arms and the man I sing, who, forced by fate
And haughty Juno's unrelenting hate,
Expelled and exiled, left the Trojan shore.
Long labors, both by sea and land, he bore;
And in the doubtful war, before he won
The Latin realm and built the destined town,
His banished gods restored to rights divine,
And settled sure succession in his line;
From whence the race of Alban fathers come,
And the long glories of majestic Rome.
......