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| author | Serghei Iakovlev <egrep@protonmail.ch> | 2022-05-09 00:46:59 +0200 |
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| committer | Serghei Iakovlev <egrep@protonmail.ch> | 2022-05-09 00:46:59 +0200 |
| commit | ff0822d24dc306e592c0094477518133ede70359 (patch) | |
| tree | a9cb37a5743a21c6b113c88fb85c1042520cae74 /exampleSite/content/poems/o-captain.md | |
| parent | 5838e942653e76bdd7c1f46979198a8e835c7145 (diff) | |
| download | gohugo-theme-ed-ff0822d24dc306e592c0094477518133ede70359.tar.gz | |
Fix content type names
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diff --git a/exampleSite/content/poems/o-captain.md b/exampleSite/content/poems/o-captain.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..486027b --- /dev/null +++ b/exampleSite/content/poems/o-captain.md @@ -0,0 +1,55 @@ +--- +title: "O Captain! My Captain!" +date: 2022-02-02T23:56:58+02:00 +draft: false +author: Walt Whitman +editor: Alex Gil +source: Poetry Foundation +--- + +- O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;[^1] +- The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won, +- The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, +- While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring; +- {{< indent 3 >}}But O heart! heart! heart! +- {{< indent 4 >}}O the bleeding drops of red, +- {{< indent 5 >}}Where on the deck my Captain lies, +- {{< indent 6 >}}Fallen cold and dead. +- {{< br >}} +- O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells; +- Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle[^2] trills, +- For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding, +- For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning; +- {{< indent 3 >}}Here Captain! dear father! +- {{< indent 4 >}}This arm beneath your head! +- {{< indent 5 >}}It is some dream that on the deck, +- {{< indent 6 >}}You’ve fallen cold and dead. +- {{< br >}} +- My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,[^3] +- My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will, +- The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done, +- From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won; +- {{< indent 3 >}}Exult O shores, and ring O bells! +- {{< indent 4 >}}But I with mournful tread, +- {{< indent 5 >}}Walk the deck my Captain lies, +- {{< indent 6 >}}Fallen cold and dead. + + +--- + +## Footnotes +<!-- editorconfig-checker-disable --> +[^1]: + + The author had just landed in La Guardia Airport after the flight captain died. All the passengers stood up to applaud the co-pilot. We have it in good authority that the event in question led Yoko Ono to write her "Letter to John": + + > - On a windy day let's go flying + > - There may be no trees to rest on + > - There may be no clouds to ride + > - But we'll have our wings and the wind will be with us + > - That's enough for me, that's enough for me. + {:.poetry} +<!-- editorconfig-checker-enable --> +[^2]: The bugle is a small trumpet implicated in the military industrial complex. + +[^3]: Another footnote. Why not? |
