Below is a short sample poem (the poem that eventually becomes "This Compost") and a set of guidelines explaining the encoding scheme that we'll be using for Vasseur's Spanish translation of Walt Whitman's "Leaves of Grass." Once you are in Note Tab Light, to begin transcribing and coding a given poem, double click on "Poem" (under "Structure" in the clip library). You will be given the structure for the overall poem, the first linegroup (lg2), and the first two lines. For subsequent lines and linegroups, use the "line" and "linegroup" clips (also in the "structure" section). Note that there are two nested structures: lg1 and lg2. - lg1 is a poem, and it has a unique id number. Transcribers should not change the default supplied by the clip library. - lg2 is roughly a stanza, as rendered by Vasseur. In one instance, the type may also be "epigraph," but in almost all others we'll use the Walt Whitman Archive nomenclature: "linegroup". tag: indicates the "work" identifier for the poem ("This Compost" in the example below). We will include these tags but leave the attribute blank in the tag, since we don't know if we're going to include these or not. When you use the "poem" function, the tag is included automatically. tag: Between and type in the title of the poem as it appears verbatim on the page. Note that in the below example, the title includes the number of the poem. tag: indicates only the first line in the first linegroup of a poem. For each subsequent line in that stanza (linegroup) and poem, use to begin the line. Also, note the preservation of initial capitalization in the first line of the example. In the transcription process, be sure to copy exactly what is on the page in terms of text, punctuation, format, and capitalization. tag: indicates spatial divisions within a line of poetry. This is a tag that allows us to capture the layout of the text on the page. We include these for practical (page-layout) and intellectual (to preserve the divisions of the print text for the user's benefit) reasons. Not every line will require the and tags: only use these with single lines of poetry that spill over from one line to the next. Hyphenated words: Note in the line about drunkards and gluttons the way in which hyphenated words are handled. We will follow this model exactly: the tag is usd to transcribe the word as it would appear if it weren't hypenated; on this use your judgment with respect to the question of whether, in the case of words that could be compounds, it would or wouldn't be rendered that way. Most likely, in Spanish, this won't be a problem. In the case of the split word "generations," you would place the portion of the word that appears in the first line between tags as follows: gen- Then you would follow this by ending that particular segment. Finally, you would place the remainder of the word "erations" between segment markers in the next line of code (and finish transcribing that line of poetry if necessary). Page breaks: Just click on "Page Break" under the "Structure" heading of your clip library and type in the three digit page number of the page that you are starting. In the case of two digit page numbers, include a 0 as the first digit. Special characters and punctuation: For long Mdashes, "&" symbols, and bold/italic text, be sure to use the special character clips instead of simply typing in the appropriate equivalent. Special Spanish punctuation symbols and accented letters are also available in the clip library. Sample poem: 9—Poem of Wonder at The Resurrection of The Wheat. SOMETHING startles me where I thought I was safest, I withdraw from the still woods I loved, I will not go now on the pastures to walk, I will not strip my clothes from my body to meet my lover the sea, I will not touch my flesh to the earth, as to other flesh, to renew me. How can the ground not sicken of men? How can you be alive, you growths of spring? How can you furnish health, you blood of herbs, roots, orchards, grain? Are they not continually putting distempered corpses in the earth? Is not every continent worked over and over with sour dead? Where have you disposed of those carcasses of the drunkards and gluttons of so many gen- erations? Where have you drawn off all the foul liquid and meat? I do not see any of it upon you today—or per- haps I am deceived, I will run a furrow with my plough—I will press my spade through the sod, and turn it up underneath, I am sure I shall expose some of the foul meat. Behold! This is the compost of billions of premature corpses, Perhaps every mite has once formed part of a sick person, Yet Behold! The grass covers the prairies, The bean bursts noiselessly through the mould in the garden, The delicate spear of the onion pierces upward, The apple-buds cluster together on the apple- branches, The resurrection of the wheat appears with pale visage out of its graves, The tinge awakes over the willow-tree and the mulberry-tree, The he-birds carol mornings and evenings, while the she-birds sit on their nests, The young of poultry break through the hatched eggs, The new-born of animals appear, the calf is dropt from the cow, the colt from the mare, Out of its little hill faithfully rise the potato's dark green leaves, Out of its hill rises the yellow maize-stalk; The summer growth is innocent and disdainful above all those strata of sour dead. What chemistry! That the winds are really not infectious! That this is no cheat, this transparent green-wash of the sea, which is so amorous after me! That it is safe to allow it to lick my naked body all over with its tongues! That it will not endanger me with the fevers that have deposited themselves in it! That all is clean, forever and forever! That the cool drink from the well tastes so good! That blackberries are so flavorous and juicy! That the fruits of the apple-orchard, and of the orange-orchard—that melons, grapes, peaches, plums, will none of them poison me! That when I recline on the grass I do not catch any disease! Though probably every spear of grass rises out of what was once a catching disease. Now I am terrified at the earth! it is that calm and patient, It grows such sweet things out of such corrup- tions, It turns harmless and stainless on its axis, with such endless successions of diseased corpses, It distils such exquisite winds out of such infused fetor, It renews with such unwitting looks, its prodigal, annual, sumptuous crops, It gives such divine materials to men, and accepts such leavings from them at last.