Puisqu’il s’agit de la page 14 du livre, on peut supposer qu’il manque au moins une page à ce poème. Et cette « page manquante » est ici en bleu.
O, I am the Great Bull Whale !
In the storm you shall hear me bellow,
With power bestride of my shoulder, as I tumble the seas aside !
I thrash the Deep from ooze to foam, and I chum the froth all yellow ;
For Wa-ha ! I am hale And when I make sail
My sundering bulk hurls the billows aside
Hurls the billows aside,
Takes a league in a stride,
And slogs, with a bellow, the face of the storm ;
’Tis naught when the blood’s running warm !
For ’tis naught when the blood’s running warm,
Wa ! Ha !
The might of my bulk in the face of the storm !
With me Wa ! Ha ! Ha !
It has far too much side
For a bit of a breeze on the top of the tide !
For I am the Great Bull Whale !
I smite the sea with my tail
At the thundering sound the oceans resound
And the Albicore tumbles into a swound,
For Wa-ha ! I am hale,
And when I make sail
My thundering bulk roars over the tides,
Roars over the tides,
And everything hides,
Save the Albicore-fool ! a-splitting his sides—
A fish kangaroo a-jumping the tides.
For he’s naught but a fish and a half, Wa ! Ha !
A haddock far less than a young bull calf !
With me Wa ! Ha ! Ha !
He has far too much side
For a bit of a haddock a-jump in the tide !
Yea, I am the Great Bull Whale !
I have shattered the moon when asleep
On the face of the deep, by a stroke of my sweep
I have shattered its features pale.
Like the voice of a wandering gale
Is the smite of my sounding tail,
For Wa-ha ! I am hale,
And when I make sail
My thundering bulk roars over the tide,
Roars over the tide,
And scatters it wide,
And laughs at the moon afloat on its side—
’Tis naught but a star that hath died !
For ’tis naught but a star that hath died, Wa ! Ha !
A matter of cinders afloat in the Wide !
With me Wa ! Ha ! Ha !
It has far too much side
For a bit of a cinder afloat in the tide !
