Since investing big on a group of great new full backs, Sané has lost his place in the starting lineup entirely. This is mostly because Guardiola has thus far. Issuu is a digital publishing platform that makes it simple to publish magazines, catalogs, newspapers, books, and more online. Easily share your publications and get. Former top-20 player Alexandr Dolgopolov came under the scrutiny of tennis’s anti-corruption group last week because of strange betting patterns around one of his.

1 I celebrate myself, and sing myself, And what I assume you shall assume, For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you. I loafe and invite my soul.

Song of Myself. Won't you help support Day. Poems? 1. 81. 9- 1. I celebrate myself, and sing myself. And what I assume you shall assume. For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you. I loafe and invite my soul.

I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass. My tongue, every atom of my blood, form'd from this soil, this air. Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their.

I, now thirty- seven years old in perfect health begin. Hoping to cease not till death. Creeds and schools in abeyance. Retiring back a while sufficed at what they are, but never forgotten. Watch Earthfall Download Full on this page. I harbor for good or bad, I permit to speak at every hazard. Nature without check with original energy. Houses and rooms are full of perfumes, the shelves are crowded with.

I breathe the fragrance myself and know it and like it. The distillation would intoxicate me also, but I shall not let it. The atmosphere is not a perfume, it has no taste of the. Watch The Parking Lot Movie Streaming more. It is for my mouth forever, I am in love with it. I will go to the bank by the wood and become undisguised and naked. I am mad for it to be in contact with me. The smoke of my own breath.

Echoes, ripples, buzz'd whispers, love- root, silk- thread, crotch and vine. My respiration and inspiration, the beating of my heart, the passing. The sniff of green leaves and dry leaves, and of the shore and. The sound of the belch'd words of my voice loos'd to the eddies of.

A few light kisses, a few embraces, a reaching around of arms. The play of shine and shade on the trees as the supple boughs wag. The delight alone or in the rush of the streets, or along the fields. The feeling of health, the full- noon trill, the song of me rising.

Have you reckon'd a thousand acres much? Have you practis'd so long to learn to read?

Have you felt so proud to get at the meaning of poems? Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of. You shall possess the good of the earth and sun, (there are millions. You shall no longer take things at second or third hand, nor look through.

You shall not look through my eyes either, nor take things from me. You shall listen to all sides and filter them from your self.

I have heard what the talkers were talking, the talk of the. But I do not talk of the beginning or the end. There was never any more inception than there is now. Nor any more youth or age than there is now. And will never be any more perfection than there is now. Nor any more heaven or hell than there is now. Urge and urge and urge.

Always the procreant urge of the world. Out of the dimness opposite equals advance, always substance and. Always a knit of identity, always distinction, always a breed of life. To elaborate is no avail, learn'd and unlearn'd feel that it is so. Sure as the most certain sure, plumb in the uprights, well. Stout as a horse, affectionate, haughty, electrical.

I and this mystery here we stand. Clear and sweet is my soul, and clear and sweet is all that is not my soul. Lack one lacks both, and the unseen is proved by the seen. Till that becomes unseen and receives proof in its turn. Showing the best and dividing it from the worst age vexes age.

Knowing the perfect fitness and equanimity of things, while they. I am silent, and go bathe and admire myself. Welcome is every organ and attribute of me, and of any man hearty and clean. Not an inch nor a particle of an inch is vile, and none shall be.

I am satisfied- -I see, dance, laugh, sing. As the hugging and loving bed- fellow sleeps at my side through the night. Leaving me baskets cover'd with white towels swelling the house with.

Shall I postpone my acceptation and realization and scream at my eyes. That they turn from gazing after and down the road. And forthwith cipher and show me to a cent. Exactly the value of one and exactly the value of two, and which is ahead? Trippers and askers surround me. People I meet, the effect upon me of my early life or the ward and.

I live in, or the nation. The latest dates, discoveries, inventions, societies, authors old and new. My dinner, dress, associates, looks, compliments, dues. The real or fancied indifference of some man or woman I love. The sickness of one of my folks or of myself, or ill- doing or loss.

Battles, the horrors of fratricidal war, the fever of doubtful news. These come to me days and nights and go from me again. But they are not the Me myself.

Apart from the pulling and hauling stands what I am. Stands amused, complacent, compassionating, idle, unitary. Looks down, is erect, or bends an arm on an impalpable certain rest.

Looking with side- curved head curious what will come next. Both in and out of the game and watching and wondering at it. Backward I see in my own days where I sweated through fog with. I have no mockings or arguments, I witness and wait. I believe in you my soul, the other I am must not abase itself to you. And you must not be abased to the other.

Loafe with me on the grass, loose the stop from your throat. Not words, not music or rhyme I want, not custom or lecture, not. Only the lull I like, the hum of your valved voice. I mind how once we lay such a transparent summer morning. How you settled your head athwart my hips and gently turn'd over upon me.

And parted the shirt from my bosom- bone, and plunged your tongue. And reach'd till you felt my beard, and reach'd till you held my feet. Swiftly arose and spread around me the peace and knowledge that pass.

And I know that the hand of God is the promise of my own. And I know that the spirit of God is the brother of my own. And that all the men ever born are also my brothers, and the women. And that a kelson of the creation is love. And limitless are leaves stiff or drooping in the fields. And brown ants in the little wells beneath them.

And mossy scabs of the worm fence, heap'd stones, elder, mullein and. A child said What is the grass?

How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is any more than he. I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green. Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord. A scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropt. Bearing the owner's name someway in the corners, that we may see. Whose? Or I guess the grass is itself a child, the produced babe of the vegetation.

Or I guess it is a uniform hieroglyphic. And it means, Sprouting alike in broad zones and narrow zones. Growing among black folks as among white. Kanuck, Tuckahoe, Congressman, Cuff, I give them the same, I. And now it seems to me the beautiful uncut hair of graves. Tenderly will I use you curling grass.

It may be you transpire from the breasts of young men. It may be if I had known them I would have loved them. It may be you are from old people, or from offspring taken soon out.

And here you are the mothers' laps. This grass is very dark to be from the white heads of old mothers. Darker than the colorless beards of old men. Dark to come from under the faint red roofs of mouths. O I perceive after all so many uttering tongues. And I perceive they do not come from the roofs of mouths for nothing.

I wish I could translate the hints about the dead young men and women. And the hints about old men and mothers, and the offspring taken. What do you think has become of the young and old men? And what do you think has become of the women and children? They are alive and well somewhere. The smallest sprout shows there is really no death.

And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at the. And ceas'd the moment life appear'd. All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses. And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier. Has any one supposed it lucky to be born?

I hasten to inform him or her it is just as lucky to die, and I know it. I pass death with the dying and birth with the new- wash'd babe, and. And peruse manifold objects, no two alike and every one good. The earth good and the stars good, and their adjuncts all good. I am not an earth nor an adjunct of an earth. I am the mate and companion of people, all just as immortal and.

They do not know how immortal, but I know.).

The World Needs Manchester City To Free Leroy SanéThis weekend’s Manchester City- Liverpool match was all set to be the game of the week and maybe even one of the games of the season, but then Sadio Mané got sent off towards the end of the first half for nearly embedding the studs of his right boot into Ederson’s skull, and right then and there the match effectively ended as a competitive contest. City went on to rout the Reds, 5- 0, and there wasn’t really much to take away from the result other than the discovery that apparently a sizable number of otherwise smart and informed soccer fans believe that smashing your boot’s studs into the face of an opponent isn’t necessarily worthy of a red card. Because of the spectacle- ruining nature of Mané’s red, we don’t know much more about Man City, Liverpool, or these two putative title challengers’ prospects going forward than we knew before. What the blowout did confirm, however, is that City forward Leroy Sané is absurdly talented and a blast to watch, and that for the love of all things fun and righteous the team needs to let that kid cook. Probably in large part because Sané broke out for a team (Schalke) in a league (the Bundesliga) that few English- speakers follow all that closely, the German winger never really got his due as a prospect when he signed with Man City. It’s a tired comparison nowadays, but Sané really is in that mold of Potential Next Ronaldos. As a big, strong, inverted winger, Sané made his name in Germany using his scorching speed and twisty dribbling to blow past defenders out wide, where he’d then slice back inside to bang in a curling shot aimed at the far corner.

He has good vision and a solid final pass that allows him to set up his teammates, but anyone watching his performances for Schalke—the most high- profile being his terrorizing substitute appearance in a Champions League goalfest against Real Madrid a couple seasons ago—recognized that what made this kid truly special was his potential as a goalscorer. Which is why it’s a little curious and more than a little frustrating seeing how manager Pep Guardiola has used Sané since he’s arrived in England. Guardiola was obviously impressed enough by the then- 2. Sané’s precious, precocious talents to make him a key summer signing and featured player last year, but not enough to play Sané in the positions where he’d get the most out of his ample gifts. For much of Sané’s City period, he has been asked to play as a left- sided winger, staying high and tight to the touchline so as to provide the critical width the team’s trickier midfield types needed in order to wreak havoc in the freed- up center of the pitch.

At times, when Guardiola went to a back- three formation he experimented with off and on, the coach even had Sané playing as a wing back on either the left or the right. Sané performed these duties with aplomb for the most part, since his speed, one- on- one dribbling, and powerful crossing abilities made him quite the effective out- and- out winger. He even managed to slink his way goalward semi- regularly, racking up a very solid nine goals in 3. However, this chalk- toed, touchline winger role is one Sané is greatly over- qualified for.

Of course he could be a great attacking wing back with the skills he possesses, but turning one of the most promising forwards of his generation with 2. He should be on the path toward becoming the new Sadio Mané, not the new Jesús Navas.

The belief of many City watchers last season was that Guardiola played Sané so wide so that he, and his counterpart on the other wing, Raheem Sterling (who, by the way, much of this post could also apply to), could use their speed and dribbling to compensate for the lack of speed and stamina of the club’s cadre of ancient and slow full backs. Once Pep had a chance to get rid of those old guys and substitute them with non- geriatric wide defenders more capable of bombing up and down the width of the pitch all day, this thinking went, then Sané could return to a role that allowed him more freedom to come inside and score. Unfortunately, this has not really proven the case. Since investing big on a group of great new full backs, Sané has lost his place in the starting lineup entirely.

This is mostly because Guardiola has thus far insistend on playing a 3- 5- 2 formation so that he can get strikers Sergio Agüero and Gabriel Jesus on the pitch at the same time. The 3- 5- 2 system hasn’t looked great for the most part; Jesus and Agüero don’t really mesh that well together, and playing five defenders and two strikers has limited City’s midfield creativity. Sané doesn’t have a natural position in a tactical set- up of this type. It’s telling that so far this season, his only start has come as a left wing back.

On Saturday, though, Sané reminded everyone of just how deadly he can be when given the freedom to roam around in attack. Sané came on as a sub for Jesus in the second half with the match already out of hand at 3- 0, which, along with the fact that Liverpool were down to 1. Watch The Vessel Putlocker#. Still, Sané was really good in a way that more closely resembled his true potential. For his first trick, Sané—still playing on the left, but as a forward in the inside- left channel with license to drift everywhere—capped off a fluid team move, showing off his race- car acceleration, his intelligent movement, and his dead- eye finishing: The pièce de résistance was, fittingly, this textbook curler that he bashed into the net in the match’s dying moments: That second goal was nearly identical to the banger he scored against Real Madrid in the performance that announced himself to the world as a very good young player with the potential to become a true superstar.

Sané should be scoring goals like that every month or so, and he should be doing it as either a striker or a right- sided forward who is allowed to run at everybody and dart behind and between defenders and cut inside on that elegant, powerful left foot of his and crack off shots that streak toward the upper corners of the goal. Hopefully he’ll put together enough performances like the one this weekend to convince Guardiola that he’s ready and deserving of such a place in this team, for his own sake and also all of us who love watching extremely fun players do wild, jaw- dropping things. If in three years we look back at moments like these as more the exception to the rule of Sané’s career, something will have gone seriously wrong.