One of my best friends died in Paris today, December 30th, 2005 of brain cancer.  Fashionlines readers know about André of on aura tout vu, whose brilliant jewelry and clothes graced many Haute Couture runways including his own, for at least a decade.  All of us at Fashionlines send our love out to Yassen and Livia of on aura tout vu, and to André's large and loving family in Portugal and Brazil. I have lost one of the dearest friends I have ever known.

SONG AT SUNSET
from Leaves of Grass (1867)
by Walt Whitman

SPLENDOR of ended day, floating and filling me!
Hour prophetic—hour resuming the past!
Inflating my throat—you, divine average!
You, Earth and Life, till the last ray gleams, I sing.

Open mouth of my Soul, uttering gladness,
Eyes of my Soul, seeing perfection,
Natural life of me, faithfully praising things;
Corroborating forever the triumph of things.

Illustrious every one!
Illustrious what we name space—
sphere of unnumber'd spirits;
Illustrious the mystery of motion, in all beings,
even the tiniest insect;
Illustrious the attribute of speech—
the senses—the body;
Illustrious the passing light! Illustrious the pale
reflection on the new moon in the western sky!
Illustrious whatever I see, or hear, or touch, to the
last.

Good in all,
In the satisfaction and aplomb of animals,
In the annual return of the seasons,
In the hilarity of youth,
In the strength and flush of manhood,
In the grandeur and exquisiteness of old age,
In the superb vistas of Death.

Wonderful to depart;
Wonderful to be here!
The heart, to jet the all-alike and innocent blood,
To breathe the air, how delicious!
To speak! to walk! to seize something by the hand!

To prepare for sleep,
for bed—to look on my rose-color'd flesh,
To be conscious of my body, so happy, so large,
To be this incredible God I am,
To have gone forth among other Gods—
those men and women I love.

Wonderful how I celebrate you and myself!
How my thoughts play subtly at the spectacles around!
How the clouds pass silently overhead!
How the earth darts on and on! and how the sun,
moon, stars, dart on and on!
How the water sports and sings! (Surely it is alive!)
How the trees rise and stand up—with strong trunks—
with branches and leaves!
(Surely there is something more in each of the trees—
some living Soul.)

O amazement of things! even the least particle!
O spirituality of things!
O strain musical, flowing through ages and continents—
now reaching me and America!
I take your strong chords—I intersperse them, and
cheerfully pass them forward.

I too carol the sun, usher'd, or at noon, or, as now, setting,
I too throb to the brain and beauty of the earth, and
of all the growths of the earth,
I too have felt the resistless call of myself.

As I sail'd down the Mississippi,
As I wander'd over the prairies,
As I have lived—As I have look'd through my windows, my eyes,
As I went forth in the morning—As I beheld the light
breaking in the east;

As I bathed on the beach of the Eastern Sea, and
again on the beach of the Western Sea;
As I roam'd the streets of inland Chicago—
whatever streets I have roam'd;
Wherever I have been, I have charged myself with
contentment and triumph.

I sing the Equalities;
I sing the endless finalés of things;
I say Nature continues—Glory continues;
I praise with electric voice;
For I do not see one imperfection in the universe;
And I do not see one cause or result lamentable at last
in the universe.

O setting sun! though the time has come,
I still warble under you, unmitigated adoration.