Grashalmen

A Dutch reader‑to‑listener discovers the devotion of a nineteenth‑century traveler who carried Whitman’s Leaves of Grass across the United States, rereading it every day and later translating its most vivid fragments. The introduction explains why the translator chose only the “purest” passages, preserving Whitman’s unbound, robust voice while letting his own taste guide the selection. Listeners are invited into that personal pilgrimage, feeling the excitement of a poet who catalogues the bustling streets of Chicago, the optimism of the open West, and the quiet moments of introspection.

The translation itself presents Whitman’s sprawling, free‑verse hymns in a language that feels both weighty and intimate, echoing the rhythm of a marching drum and the hush of a solitary sunrise. As the verses unfold, the listener catches the pulse of a fledgling democratic spirit, a celebration of labor, love, and the ever‑expanding promise of humanity. Even without the full collection, these chosen “grass‑blades” convey the timeless roar and tenderness that made Whitman a singular voice of his age.