THE world below the brine;
Forests at the bottom of the seathe branches and leaves,
Sea-lettuce, vast lichens, strange flowers and seedsthe thick tangle, the openings,
and
the pink turf,
Different colors, pale gray and green, purple, white, and goldthe play of light
through
the water,
Dumb swimmers there among the rockscoral, gluten, grass, rushesand the aliment
of
the swimmers,
Sluggish existences grazing there, suspended, or slowly crawling close to the bottom,
The sperm-whale at the surface, blowing air and spray, or disporting with his flukes,
The leaden-eyed shark, the walrus, the turtle, the hairy sea-leopard, and the sting-ray;
Passions therewars, pursuits, tribessight in those ocean-depthsbreathing
that
thick-breathing air, as so many do;
The change thence to the sight here, and to the subtle air breathed by beings like us, who
walk
this sphere;
The change onward from ours, to that of beings who walk other spheres.
World Below the Brine, The.
written byWalt Whitman
© Walt Whitman