Classic Poem

I have all my aunts here in America. I earn enough for bread and theatre in America. Have already seen the Niagara Falls, and already seen the tallest building in the world, the owner of which is a dealer in five cent articles, and quite often I buy of him. I have already walked across the largest bridge in the world; worn shoes and cravats bought at John Wanamaker's, who owns the biggest store in the world and who is, woe betide me, not a Jew. I own a watch that made the dollar famous. I have already ridden on the fastest express train in the world, that is called " The Twentieth Century Limited. " And I obtain here books gratis in the most beautiful binding .
And yet — and yet I feel so gloomy, oh so ill humored, so dejected, so sad, that I would rather rush headlong with the Niagara Waterfall; be swept off the tallest building in the world by an Alaskan wind; and with a smile I would jump off the biggest bridge in all the world; and instead of wearing Wanamaker's shoes, I'd rather go barefoot, with bruised feet; and better that I'd never know the time; I'd prefer the Twentieth Century Limited to run over me and bespatter its tracks from New York to Chicago with my dejected blood — than to be unable to bathe in the Vistula and promenade along the Marshalkovska, and laugh like a human being, and from time to time get gloomy at a party and utter with a sigh: " Six years I've spent in America. "