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Carl Sandburg (Карл Сэндберг)


I Am the People, the Mob


I AM the people — the mob—the crowd—the mass.
Do you know that all the great work of the world is done through me?
I am the workingman, the inventor, the maker of the
    world's food and clothes.
I am the audience that witnesses history. The Napoleons
    come from me and the Lincolns.
I am the seed ground. I am a prairie that will stand
    for much plowing. Terrible storms pass over me.
    I forget. The best of me is sucked out and wasted.
    I forget. Everything but death comes to me and
    makes me work and give up what I have. And I
    forget.
Sometimes I grows, shake myself and spatter a few red
    drops for history to remember. Then—I forget.
When I, the People, learn to remember, when I, the
    People, use the lessons of yesterday and no longer
    forget who robbed me last year, who played me for
    a fool—then there will be no speaker in all the world
    say the name: "The People," with any fleck of a
    sneer in his voice or any far off smile of derision.
The mob—the crowd—the mass—will arrive then.



Carl Sandburg's other poems:
  1. Wistful
  2. Timesweep
  3. Hits and Runs
  4. Government
  5. Old-fashioned Requited Love


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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1690


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Английская поэзия