Winged cavalcade of me riding over all things,
Exploded cavalcade of me riding under all things,
Winged and exploded cavalcade of me for the sake of all things . . .
Alley-oop over the trees, alley-oop under ponds,
Alley-oop into the walls, alley-oop against tree trunks,
Alley-oop in the air, alley-oop in the wind, alley-oop on the beaches,
With increasing, insistent, frenetic speed.
Alley-oop alley-oop alley-oop alley-oop . . .
Pantheistic cavalcade of me inside all things,
Energetic cavalcade of me inside all energies,
Cavalcade of me inside the coal that burns, inside the lamp that glows,
Inside every kind of energy,
Cavalcade of a thousand amperes,
Explosive cavalcade, exploded like a bursting bomb,
Cavalcade bursting in all directions at the same time,
Cavalcade over space, a leap over time,
Hurdling ion-electric horse, compressed solar system
Inside the driving pistons, outside the turning flywheels.
Inside the pistons I take the form of raging abstract speed,
Acting by iron and motion, come-and-go, madness, pent-up rage,
And on the rim of every flywheel I turn staggering hours,
And the entire universe creaks, sizzles, and booms in me.
Whoooooooosssssssshhhhh . . .
Ever faster, the mind ever farther ahead of the body,
Ahead even of the rushing idea of the propelled body,
The mind behind ahead of the body, shadow, spark,
Hey-a-whoooooo . . . Heyawhooooooo . . .
All energy is the same and all nature is the same . . .
The sap of tree sap is the same energy that turns
Train wheels, streetcar wheels, the diesel engine's flywheels,
And a vehicle moved by mules or gasoline is moved by the same thing.
Pantheistic rage of awesome feeling
With all my senses fizzing and all my pores fuming
That everything is but one speed, one energy, one divine line
From and to itself, arrested and murmuring furies of mad speed . . .
Hail, hurrah, long live the hurtling unity of all things!
Hail, hurrah, long live the equality of all things soaring!
Hail, hurrah, long live the the great machine the universe!
Hail, because you - trees, machines, laws - are the same,
Hail, because you - worms, pistons, abstract ideas - are the same,
The same sap fills you, the same sap transforms you,
You are the same thing, and the rest is outer and false,
The rest, the static rest that remains in eyes that stop moving,
But not in my combustion-engine nerves that run on heavy or light oil,
Not in my all-machine, all-gear-system nerves,
Not in my train, tram, car, steam-thresher nerves,
Ship-engine, diesel-engine, semidiesel, Campbell nerves,
100 percent steam-run, gas-run, oil-run, and electric-run nerves,
Universal machine moved by belts of all momentums!
Smash, train, against the buffer of the sidetrack!
Ram, steamer, into the pier and split open!
Dash, automobile driven by the madness of all the universe,
Over the edge of every cliff
And crash - bam! - into smithereens in the bottom of my heart!
Straight at me, all projectile objects!
Straight at me, all object directions!
Straight at me, all objects too swift to be seen!
Strike me, pierce me, pass right through me!
It's I who strike, who pierce, who pass through myself!
The rage of all impetuses closes in a me-circle!
Heya-whooooo my train, auto, airplane desires.
Speed, force your way into all ideas,
Collide into all dreams and shatter them,
Scorch all humanitarian and useful ideals,
Crush all normal and decent and harmonious feelings,
Catch in the whirl of your heavy and dizzy flywheel,
The bodies of all philosophies, the tatters of all poems,
Shredding them till only you remain, an abstract flywheel in space,
Metallic supreme lord and libido of Europe's hour.
Let's go, may the cavalcade never end, not even in God!
Let's go even if I should fall behind the cavalcade, even if I must clutch
The horse's tail and be dragged, mangled, lacerated, lost
In free fall, my body and soul behind my abstract yearning,
My giddly yearning to transcend the universe,
To leave God behind like a negligible milestone,
To leave. . . . .
My imagination hurts, I don't know how, but that's what hurts.
The sun on high inside me is sinking.
Dusk is starting to fall over the blue and in my nerves.
Let's go, cavalcade, who else will you turn me into?
I, this swift, voracious glutton of abstract energy,
Who wanted to eat, drink, claw and flay the world,
I, who could only be satisfied by trampling the universe underfoot,
Trampling, trampling, trampling until feeling nothing . . .
I feel that all of what I wanted eluded what I imagined,
That although I wanted everything, everything lacked.
Cavalcade dismantled over all summits,
Cavalcade dissolved underneath all wells,
Cavalcade flight, cavalcade arrow, cavalcade flashing thought,
Cavalcade I, cavalcade I, cavalcade universe-I.
Heyawhoooooooo . . .
My elastic being, a spring, a needle, a trembling . . .