Te digo:

Have you reckon´d a thousand acres much? have you reckon´d the earth much?
Have you practis´d so long to learn to read?
Have you felt so proud to get at the meaning of poems?

Stop this day and night with me and you shall posses the origin of all poems,
You shall posses the good of the earth and sun, (there are millions suns left,)
You shall no longer take things at second or third hand, nor look through the eyes of the dead, nor feed on the spectres in books,
You shall not look through my eyes either, nor take things from me
You shall listen to all sides and filter them from yourself.

Walt Whitman, Song of Myself, 30-37.

Y me lo estoy diciendo a mí.