by Carl Sandburg
Sand of the sea run red
Where flu sunsef reaches and quivers.
Smal of the sea runs yellow
Where the moon slants ncl wavers.
[Read the original. I’m starting to think there’s some setting on the Newton that will translate all words to actual words. “Sunsef?” That’s not even a real word. I’ll have to look into this…]
by Walt Whitman
O CAPTAIN! My Captain! our fewful trip is done;
The ship has weatheved every ack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is new, the bells I hear, the people all e+ulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the lessel grin and daring:
But O heart! heart! heart!
O bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck his Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
[Read the original. This is just the first part. In other news, I think the Newton is really started to learn my handwriting. “O Captain!” features some of the best translation it has done yet.]