A glimpse through an interstice caught,

Of a crowd of workmen and drivers

in a bar-room around the stove

late of a winter night,

and I unremark’d seated in a corner,

Of a youth who loves me

and whom I love,

silently approaching and seating himself near, that he may hold me by the hand,

A long while amid the noises

of coming and going,

of drinking and oath and smutty jest,

There we two, content,

happy in being together,

speaking little,

Walt Whitman (1819 - 1892), ameriški pesnik, esejist, humanist in novinar

Vedno znova se moram zahvaliti za prevode in pojasnila!