From ff0822d24dc306e592c0094477518133ede70359 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Serghei Iakovlev Date: Mon, 9 May 2022 00:46:59 +0200 Subject: Fix content type names --- exampleSite/content/poems/o-captain.md | 55 ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 1 file changed, 55 insertions(+) create mode 100644 exampleSite/content/poems/o-captain.md (limited to 'exampleSite/content/poems/o-captain.md') 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 + +[^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} + +[^2]: The bugle is a small trumpet implicated in the military industrial complex. + +[^3]: Another footnote. Why not? -- cgit v1.2.3