Unit 1, Lesson 3: Poem: O Me! O Life!
O Me! O Life!Walt Whitman
Oh me! Oh life! of the questions of these recurring,
Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill’d with the foolish,
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the struggle ever renew’d,
Of the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me,
Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me intertwined,
The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?
Answer:
That you are here—that life exists and identity,That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.
āĻāϝ়াāϞ্āĻ āĻšুāĻāĻāĻŽ্āϝাāύেāϰ āĻāĻŦিāϤা O Me! O Life! āĻāĻāĻি āĻāĻীāϰ āĻĻাāϰ্āĻļāύিāĻ āĻিāύ্āϤা āĻāĻŦং āĻŽাāύāĻŦ āĻীāĻŦāύেāϰ āĻāĻিāϞāϤাāĻুāϞোāϰ āĻĒ্āϰāϤিāĻĢāϞāύ। āĻāĻ āĻāĻŦিāϤাāϝ়, āĻšুāĻāĻāĻŽ্āϝাāύ āĻ āϏ্āϤিāϤ্āĻŦেāϰ āĻŽৌāϞিāĻ āĻĒ্āϰāĻļ্āύāĻুāϞোāϰ āĻāϤ্āϤāϰ āĻোঁāĻাāϰ āĻেāώ্āĻা āĻāϰেāĻেāύ। āĻŽাāύāĻŦāĻীāĻŦāύেāϰ āĻ āϰ্āĻĨ, āĻāĻŽাāĻĻেāϰ āĻĻৈāύāύ্āĻĻিāύ āϏংāĻ্āϰাāĻŽ āĻāĻŦং āύিāĻেāϰ āĻ āĻŦāϏ্āĻĨাāύ āϏāĻŽ্āĻĒāϰ্āĻে āĻāĻŦি āĻāĻ āĻ āύāύ্āϝ āĻĻৃāώ্āĻিāĻোāĻŖ āĻāĻĒāϏ্āĻĨাāĻĒāύ āĻāϰেāĻেāύ।
āĻŽূāϞ āĻĨিāĻŽ:
āĻāĻ āĻāĻŦিāϤাāϰ āĻĒ্āϰāϧাāύ āĻĨিāĻŽ āĻšāϞো āĻŽাāύāĻŦāĻীāĻŦāύেāϰ āĻāĻĻ্āĻĻেāĻļ্āϝ āĻāĻŦং āĻীāĻŦāύেāϰ āĻāĻিāϞāϤাāϰ āĻŽাāĻেāĻ āĻāĻŽাāĻĻেāϰ āĻূāĻŽিāĻা। āĻšুāĻāĻāĻŽ্āϝাāύ āĻāĻাāύে āĻŦ্āϝāĻ্āϤিāĻāϤ āĻāĻŦং āϏাāϰ্āĻŦāĻāύীāύ āĻĒ্āϰāĻļ্āύ āĻāϤ্āĻĨাāĻĒāύ āĻāϰেāĻেāύ:āĻāĻŽāϰা āĻেāύ āĻŦেঁāĻে āĻāĻি?
āĻāĻŽাāĻĻেāϰ āĻ
āϏ্āϤিāϤ্āĻŦেāϰ āĻী āĻŽূāϞ্āϝ?
āĻāĻŦিāϤাāϰ āĻĒ্āϰেāĻ্āώাāĻĒāĻ āĻ
āύুāϝাāϝ়ী, āĻীāĻŦāύ āĻāĻ āĻ
āĻŦিāϰাāĻŽ āϏংāĻ্āϰাāĻŽ, āϝেāĻাāύে āĻšāϤাāĻļা āĻāĻŦং āϏ্āĻŦāĻĒ্āύ āĻāĻāϏāĻ্āĻে āĻŦিāĻĻ্āϝāĻŽাāύ। āϤāĻŦুāĻ, āĻāĻ āĻšāϤাāĻļাāϰ āĻŽāϧ্āϝেāĻ āĻীāĻŦāύেāϰ āϏৌāύ্āĻĻāϰ্āϝ āĻāĻŦং āĻāĻŽাāĻĻেāϰ āĻĻাāϝ়িāϤ্āĻŦ āĻুঁāĻে āĻĒাāĻāϝ়াāĻ āĻšāϞো āĻāĻŦিāϤাāϰ āĻŽূāϞ āĻŦাāϰ্āϤা।
āĻāĻŦিāϤাāϰ āĻŦিāĻļ্āϞেāώāĻŖ:
āĻāĻŦিāϤাāĻি āĻĻুāĻ āĻাāĻে āĻŦিāĻāĻ্āϤ। āĻĒ্āϰāĻĨāĻŽ āĻাāĻে āĻāĻŦি āĻŽাāύুāώেāϰ āĻ āĻ্āώāĻŽāϤা, āĻŦিāĻ্āϰাāύ্āϤি āĻāĻŦং āĻšāϤাāĻļাāϰ āĻāĻĨা āĻŦāϞেāĻেāύ। āĻĻ্āĻŦিāϤীāϝ় āĻাāĻে āϤিāύি āĻāĻ āϏāĻŽāϏ্āϝাāĻুāϞোāϰ āϏāĻŽাāϧাāύ āĻāĻŦং āĻীāĻŦāύেāϰ āĻ āϰ্āĻĨেāϰ āĻĻিāĻে āĻāϞোāĻāĻĒাāϤ āĻāϰেāĻেāύ।āĻĒ্āϰāĻĨāĻŽ āĻ ংāĻļ: “O Me! O Life! of the questions of these recurring, Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill’d with the foolish,”
āĻāĻ āĻ ংāĻļে āĻāĻŦি āĻŽাāύুāώেāϰ āϏীāĻŽাāĻŦāĻĻ্āϧāϤা āĻāĻŦং āϤাāĻĻেāϰ āĻ্āϰাāύ্āϤিāϰ āĻĻিāĻে āĻāĻ্āĻিāϤ āĻāϰেāĻেāύ। “Endless trains of the faithless” āĻŦাāĻ্āϝে āĻŽাāύুāώেāϰ āĻŦিāĻļ্āĻŦাāϏāĻšীāύāϤা āĻāĻŦং āύৈāϤিāĻ āĻĻুāϰ্āĻŦāϞāϤাāĻে āĻŦোāĻাāύো āĻšāϝ়েāĻে। “Cities fill’d with the foolish” āĻŦাāĻ্āϝāĻি āĻāϧুāύিāĻ āϏāĻŽাāĻেāϰ āĻ āĻোāĻাāϞো āĻāĻŦং āĻ āĻŦিāĻŦেāĻāύাāĻĒ্āϰāϏূāϤ āĻāĻāϰāĻŖāĻে āĻিāϤ্āϰিāϤ āĻāϰে। āĻāĻāϏāĻŦ āĻāĻĒাāĻĻাāύ āĻāĻŽাāĻĻেāϰ āĻীāĻŦāύāĻে āĻšāϤাāĻļাāϝ় āĻāϰিāϝ়ে āϤোāϞে।
āĻĻ্āĻŦিāϤীāϝ় āĻ ংāĻļ: “Answer. That you are here—that life exists, and identity, That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.”
āĻāĻ āĻ ংāĻļে āĻāĻŦি āĻীāĻŦāύেāϰ āĻāĻāĻি āĻāϤিāĻŦাāĻāĻ āĻāĻŦং āϏাāύ্āϤ্āĻŦāύাāĻĻাāϝ়āĻ āĻĻিāĻ āϤুāϞে āϧāϰেāĻেāύ। “That you are here” āϞাāĻāύāĻি āĻāĻŽাāĻĻেāϰ āĻ āϏ্āϤিāϤ্āĻŦেāϰ āĻুāϰুāϤ্āĻŦāĻে āύিāϰ্āĻĻেāĻļ āĻāϰে। āĻীāĻŦāύ āύিāĻেāĻ āĻāĻāĻি āĻļāĻ্āϤিāĻļাāϞী āύাāĻāĻ, āϝেāĻাāύে āĻĒ্āϰāϤ্āϝেāĻেāϰāĻ āĻāĻāĻি āĻŦিāĻļেāώ āĻূāĻŽিāĻা āĻāĻে। “You may contribute a verse” āĻŦাāĻ্āϝāĻি āĻŦোāĻাāϝ় āϝে āĻĒ্āϰāϤ্āϝেāĻ āĻŽাāύুāώāĻ āĻāĻ āĻŽāĻšাāĻাāĻŦ্āϝেāϰ āĻ ংāĻļ āĻāĻŦং āϤাāϰা āϤাāĻĻেāϰ āύিāĻāϏ্āĻŦ āĻ āύāύ্āϝāϤা āϝোāĻ āĻāϰāϤে āĻĒাāϰে।
āĻāĻŦিāϤাāϰ āĻুāϰুāϤ্āĻŦ:
āĻšুāĻāĻāĻŽ্āϝাāύেāϰ āĻāĻ āĻāĻŦিāϤা āĻļুāϧুāĻŽাāϤ্āϰ āĻĻাāϰ্āĻļāύিāĻ āĻিāύ্āϤাāϧাāϰা āύāϝ়, āĻāĻি āĻāĻŽাāĻĻেāϰāĻে āĻীāĻŦāύেāϰ āĻĒ্āϰāϤি āĻāĻāĻি āύāϤুāύ āĻĻৃāώ্āĻিāĻāĻ্āĻি āĻĒ্āϰāĻĻাāύ āĻāϰে। āĻšāϤাāĻļাāϰ āĻŽাāĻেāĻ āĻীāĻŦāύেāϰ āϏৌāύ্āĻĻāϰ্āϝ āĻāĻŦং āϏāĻŽ্āĻাāĻŦāύাāĻে āĻāĻĒāϞāĻŦ্āϧি āĻāϰাāϰ āĻ্āώāĻŽāϤা āĻāĻŽাāĻĻেāϰ āĻিāϤāϰে āĻাāĻ্āϰāϤ āĻāϰে।
āϝāĻĻি āĻāĻŽāϰা āĻĒ্āϰāϤিāĻĻিāύেāϰ āϏংāĻ্āϰাāĻŽেāϰ āĻŽāϧ্āϝে āĻšাāϰিāϝ়ে āϝাāĻ, āϤāĻŦে āĻāĻ āĻāĻŦিāϤা āĻāĻŽাāĻĻেāϰ āϏ্āĻŽāϰāĻŖ āĻāϰিāϝ়ে āĻĻেāϝ় āϝে āĻāĻŽāϰা āĻāĻāĻি āĻŦৃāĻšāϤ্āϤāϰ āĻিāĻুāϰ āĻ ংāĻļ। āĻāĻŽাāĻĻেāϰ āĻীāĻŦāύ āĻ āϰ্āĻĨāĻĒূāϰ্āĻŖ, āĻāĻŦং āĻāĻŽাāĻĻেāϰ āĻাāĻেāϰ āĻŽাāϧ্āϝāĻŽে āĻāĻŽāϰা āϏেāĻ āĻ āϰ্āĻĨāĻে āĻāϰāĻ āϏāĻŽৃāĻĻ্āϧ āĻāϰāϤে āĻĒাāϰি।
āĻāĻĒāϏংāĻšাāϰ:
āĻāϝ়াāϞ্āĻ āĻšুāĻāĻāĻŽ্āϝাāύেāϰ O Me! O Life! āĻāĻŽাāĻĻেāϰ āĻীāĻŦāύেāϰ āĻāĻĻ্āĻĻেāĻļ্āϝ āĻāĻŦং āĻূāĻŽিāĻা āϏāĻŽ্āĻĒāϰ্āĻে āĻাāĻŦāϤে āĻāĻĻ্āĻŦুāĻĻ্āϧ āĻāϰে। āĻšāϤাāĻļাāϰ āĻŽāϧ্āϝেāĻ āĻীāĻŦāύেāϰ āĻĒ্āϰāϤি āĻāϤিāĻŦাāĻāĻ āĻĻৃāώ্āĻিāĻāĻ্āĻি āĻāĻŦং āύিāĻেāϰ āĻ
āĻŦāϏ্āĻĨাāύ āĻুঁāĻে āĻĒাāĻāϝ়াāϰ āϝে āϤাāĻিāĻĻ āĻāĻ āĻāĻŦিāϤাāϝ় āĻāĻে, āϤা āĻ
āύুāĻĒ্āϰেāϰāĻŖাāĻŽূāϞāĻ। āĻীāĻŦāύেāϰ āύাāĻāĻে āĻāĻŽাāĻĻেāϰ āĻ
āύāύ্āϝ āĻূāĻŽিāĻা āĻŦুāĻে āĻāĻŦং āϤা āĻĒাāϞāύ āĻāϰেāĻ āĻāĻŽāϰা āϏāϤ্āϝিāĻাāϰ āĻ
āϰ্āĻĨে āĻŦেঁāĻে āĻĨাāĻাāϰ āĻāύāύ্āĻĻ āĻāĻĒāϞāĻŦ্āϧি āĻāϰāϤে āĻĒাāϰি।
Questions and Answers:
i. What is the main theme of the poem?
The main theme of the poem is to explore the purpose of life and the meaning of human existence. It emphasizes finding beauty and responsibility amidst despair. (āĻāĻŦিāϤাāϰ āĻĒ্āϰāϧাāύ āĻĨিāĻŽ āĻšāϞো āĻীāĻŦāύেāϰ āĻāĻĻ্āĻĻেāĻļ্āϝ āĻāĻŦং āĻāĻŽাāĻĻেāϰ āĻ
āϏ্āϤিāϤ্āĻŦেāϰ āĻ
āϰ্āĻĨ āĻোঁāĻা। āĻšāϤাāĻļাāϰ āĻŽাāĻেāĻ āĻীāĻŦāύেāϰ āϏৌāύ্āĻĻāϰ্āϝ āĻāĻŦং āĻĻাāϝ়িāϤ্āĻŦেāϰ āĻূāĻŽিāĻা āĻŦোāĻা।)
ii. What recurring questions does the poet mention?
The poet raises questions about existence, daily struggles, and the inconsistencies of society, such as why we are alive and how meaningful our lives are. (āĻāĻŦি āĻŽাāύুāώেāϰ āĻ
āϏ্āϤিāϤ্āĻŦ, āϤাāĻĻেāϰ āĻĻৈāύāύ্āĻĻিāύ āϏংāĻ্āϰাāĻŽ āĻāĻŦং āϏāĻŽাāĻেāϰ āĻ
āϏāĻ্āĻāϤিāϰ āĻĒ্āϰāĻļ্āύ āĻāϤ্āĻĨাāĻĒāύ āĻāϰেāĻেāύ। āĻāĻĻাāĻšāϰāĻŖāϏ্āĻŦāϰূāĻĒ: āĻāĻŽāϰা āĻেāύ āĻŦেঁāĻে āĻāĻি, āĻāĻŦং āĻāĻŽাāĻĻেāϰ āĻীāĻŦāύ āĻāϤāĻা āĻ
āϰ্āĻĨāĻĒূāϰ্āĻŖ।)
iii. What does the poet mean by ‘useless years’?
By ‘useless years,’ the poet refers to times when people fail to find the true purpose of their lives and live without meaningful direction. (‘Useless years’ āĻŦāϞāϤে āĻāĻŦি āĻāĻŽāύ āϏāĻŽāϝ় āĻŦোāĻাāϤে āĻেāϝ়েāĻেāύ, āϝāĻāύ āĻŽাāύুāώ āϤাāĻĻেāϰ āĻীāĻŦāύেāϰ āĻĒ্āϰāĻৃāϤ āĻāĻĻ্āĻĻেāĻļ্āϝ āĻুঁāĻে āĻĒেāϤে āĻŦ্āϝāϰ্āĻĨ āĻšāϝ় āĻāĻŦং āĻ
āϰ্āĻĨāĻšীāύāĻাāĻŦে āĻীāĻŦāύ āĻাāĻাāϝ়।)
iv. Is age an identity marker? What are the attributes of old age?
Yes, age can be an identity marker. Attributes of old age include physical weakness, the weight of experience, and a deeper understanding of life. (āĻš্āϝাঁ, āĻŦāϝ়āϏ āĻ
āύেāĻ āϏāĻŽāϝ় āĻāĻāĻি āĻĒāϰিāĻāϝ় āĻিāĻš্āύ āĻšিāϏেāĻŦে āĻাāĻ āĻāϰে। āĻŦৃāĻĻ্āϧ āĻŦāϝ়āϏেāϰ āĻŦৈāĻļিāώ্āĻ্āϝāĻুāϞোāϰ āĻŽāϧ্āϝে āĻļাāϰীāϰিāĻ āĻĻুāϰ্āĻŦāϞāϤা, āĻ
āĻিāĻ্āĻāϤাāϰ āĻাāϰ, āĻāĻŦং āĻীāĻŦāύেāϰ āĻĒ্āϰāϤি āĻāĻীāϰ āĻāĻĒāϞāĻŦ্āϧি āĻ
āύ্āϤāϰ্āĻুāĻ্āϤ।)
v. What do ‘sordid’ and ‘plodding’ mean?
‘Sordid’ means dirty or immoral, and ‘plodding’ means moving slowly or laboriously. (‘Sordid’ āĻŽাāύে āύোংāϰা āĻŦা āĻ
āύৈāϤিāĻ, āĻāĻŦং ‘plodding’ āĻŽাāύে āϧীāϰāĻāϤিāϤে āĻŦা āĻāώ্āĻ āĻāϰে āĻāĻিāϝ়ে āĻāϞা।)
vi. What ‘faith’ does the poet mention here?
The poet refers to faith in humanity, trust in life itself, and the commitment to fulfilling one’s responsibilities. (āĻāĻŦি āĻāĻাāύে āĻŽাāύুāώেāϰ āĻĒ্āϰāϤি āĻŦিāĻļ্āĻŦাāϏ, āĻীāĻŦāύেāϰ āĻĒ্āϰāϤি āĻāϏ্āĻĨা āĻāĻŦং āύিāĻেāĻĻেāϰ āĻĻাāϝ়িāϤ্āĻŦ āĻĒাāϞāύেāϰ āĻĒ্āϰāϤি āĻĻৃāĻĸ়āϤা āĻŦোāĻাāϤে ‘faith’ āĻļāĻŦ্āĻĻāĻি āĻŦ্āϝāĻŦāĻšাāϰ āĻāϰেāĻেāύ।)
vii. Is there a symbolic meaning of ‘contribute a verse’ in the last line?
Yes, ‘contribute a verse’ carries a symbolic meaning. It signifies that every individual has a unique role to play and a contribution to make in the larger narrative of life. (āĻš্āϝাঁ, ‘contribute a verse’ āĻŦাāĻ্āϝāĻি āĻĒ্āϰāϤীāĻী āĻ
āϰ্āĻĨ āĻŦāĻšāύ āĻāϰে। āĻāĻি āĻŦোāĻাāϝ় āϝে āĻĒ্āϰāϤ্āϝেāĻ āĻŦ্āϝāĻ্āϤিāϰ āύিāĻāϏ্āĻŦ āĻূāĻŽিāĻা āĻāĻŦং āĻ
āĻŦāĻĻাāύ āĻāĻে, āϝা āĻীāĻŦāύেāϰ āĻŦৃāĻšāϤ্āϤāϰ āĻ
āϰ্āĻĨেāϰ āĻ
ংāĻļ।)
viii. Do you find the answer section of the poem convincing?
Yes, the answer section is highly inspiring. It offers a refreshing perspective on the value of life and encourages active participation in the grand “play” of existence. (āĻš্āϝাঁ, āĻāĻŦিāϤাāϰ āĻāϤ্āϤāϰ āĻ
ংāĻļāĻি āĻুāĻŦāĻ āĻ
āύুāĻĒ্āϰেāϰāĻŖাāĻŽূāϞāĻ। āĻāĻি āĻāĻŽাāĻĻেāϰ āĻীāĻŦāύেāϰ āĻŽূāϞ্āϝ āĻāĻŦং āĻĻাāϝ়িāϤ্āĻŦ āϏāĻŽ্āĻĒāϰ্āĻে āύāϤুāύ āĻāĻĒāϞāĻŦ্āϧি āĻĻেāϝ়। āĻāĻি āĻāĻŽাāĻĻেāϰ āĻীāĻŦāύেāϰ āύাāĻāĻে āϏāĻ্āϰিāϝ় āĻূāĻŽিāĻা āĻĒাāϞāύ āĻāϰāϤে āĻāĻĻ্āĻŦুāĻĻ্āϧ āĻāϰে।)
Summary:
In this poem, Whitman questions his own existence and the futility of life. He ponders the “endless trains of the faithless,” or the many people who, throughout his life, betray his expectations. He describes cities full of foolish people and reproaches himself for being no better than these faithless masses. He admits that his eyes vainly crave light and that he, like many others, always wants something better than what he has. He laments that things never turn out the way he wants them to, and observes the “sordid crowds” around him who are also fighting through the journey of life. He believes that he is intertwined with these people, spending just as many “useless years” in pursuit of a distant idea. At the end of the poem, he answers his own question—existence is enough of a purpose for humans to exist, and having life is reason enough for living.
āĻļāĻŦ্āĻĻাāϰ্āĻĨ
O: āĻāĻš্āĻŦাāύ āĻŦা āĻāĻŦেāĻ āĻĒ্āϰāĻাāĻļ।
Me: āĻāĻŽি āĻŦা āύিāĻেāϰ āĻĒ্āϰāϤিāĻĢāϞāύ।
Life: āĻীāĻŦāύ।
Questions: āĻĒ্āϰāĻļ্āύāϏāĻŽূāĻš।
Recurring: āĻĒুāύāϰাāĻŦৃāϤ্āϤ।
Endless: āĻ
āύ্āϤāĻšীāύ।
Trains: āϧাāϰাāĻŦাāĻšিāĻāϤা।
Faithless: āĻŦিāĻļ্āĻŦাāϏāĻšীāύ।
Cities: āύāĻāϰāϏāĻŽূāĻš।
Foolish: āύিāϰ্āĻŦোāϧ।
Struggle: āϏংāĻ্āϰাāĻŽ।
Useless: āĻ
āĻĒ্āϰāϝ়োāĻāύীāϝ়।
Years: āĻŦāĻāϰāϏāĻŽূāĻš।
Exists: āĻŦিāĻĻ্āϝāĻŽাāύ।
Identity: āĻĒāϰিāĻāϝ়।
Powerful: āĻļāĻ্āϤিāĻļাāϞী।
Play: āύাāĻāĻ।
Goes on: āĻāϞāϤে āĻĨাāĻা।
Contribute: āĻ
āĻŦāĻĻাāύ āϰাāĻা।
Verse: āĻāĻŦিāϤা āĻŦা āĻ
ংāĻļ।
Sordid: āύোংāϰা āĻŦা āύৈāϤিāĻāĻাāĻŦে āĻাāϰাāĻĒ।
Plodding: āϧীāϰāĻāϤিāϤে āĻāϞা।
Faith: āĻŦিāĻļ্āĻŦাāϏ।
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