TURN, O Libertad, for the war is over,
(From it and all henceforth expanding, doubting no more, resolute, sweeping the world,)
Turn from lands retrospective, recording proofs of the past;
From the singers that sing the trailing glories of the past;
From the chants of the feudal worldthe triumphs of kings, slavery, caste;
Turn to the world, the triumphs reservd and to comegive up that backward
world;
Leave to the singers of hithertogive them the trailing past;
But what remains, remains for singers for youwars to come are for you;
(Lo! how the wars of the past have duly inured to youand the wars of the present
also
inure:)
Then turn, and be not alarmd, O Libertadturn your undying face,
To where the future, greater than all the past,
Is swiftly, surely preparing for you.
Turn, O Libertad.
written byWalt Whitman
© Walt Whitman