He who wears the shoes of gold
Tramples on the weak and old
Does evil all day long
And mocks at wrong
O to carry as one’s own
Heavy is the heart of stone
The power to do ill
Wears out the will
Hunger he will dread
Not those who go unfed:
Fear the fall of night
But not the light
My young son asks me: Must I learn mathematics?
What is the use, I feel like saying. That two pieces
Of bread are more than one’s about all you’ll end up with.
My young son asks me: Must I learn French?
What is the use, I feel like saying. This State’s collapsing.
And if you just rub your belly with your hand and
Groan, you’ll be understood with little trouble.
My young son asks me: Must I learn history?
What is the use, I feel like saying. Learn to stick
Your head in the earth, and maybe you’ll still survive.
Yes, learn mathematics, I tell him.
Learn your French, learn your history!Bertolt Brecht, “My Young Son Asks Me…”
Forward, without forgetting
Where our strength can be seen now to be!
When starving or when eating
Forward, not forgetting
Our solidarity!Peoples of the world, together
Join to serve the common cause!
So it feeds us all for ever
See to it that it’s now yours.Forward….
Black or white or brown or yellow
Leave your old disputes behind.
Once you’re talking with your fellow
Men, you’ll soon be of one mind.Forward….
If you want to make this certain
We’ll need you and your support.
It’s yourselves you’ll be deserting
If you rat on your own sort.Forward….
All the gang of those who rule us
Hope our quarrels never stop
Helping them to split and fool us
So they can remain on top.Forward….
Workers of the world, uniting
That’s the way to lose your chains.
Mighty regiments are fighting
That no tyranny remains!Forward, without forgetting
Till the concrete question is hurled
When starving or when eating:
Whose tomorrow is tomorrow?
And whose world is the world?
Next day’s subdued farewell: she standing there
Cool on the threshold, coolly looked at too
When I observed a grey strand in her hair
And found I could not bring myself to go.
Silent I took her breast, and when she wondered
Why I, who’d been her guest that night in bed
Was not prepared to leave as we had said
I looked her straight between the eyes and answered:
It’s only one more night that I’ll be staying
But use your time; the fact is, you’ve provoked me
Standing poised on the threshold in that way.
And let us speed up what we’ve got to say
For both of us forgot that you’re decaying.
With that my voice gave out, and longing choked me.
— Bertolt Brecht
Translated by John Willett
Only if you knew how badly I want this to happen.
(via dogsofpisa-deactivated20111221)
