Carl Sandburg (Карл Сэндберг)

They Will Say

OF my city the worst that men will ever say is this:
You took little children away from the sun and the dew,
And the glimmers that played in the grass under the great sky,
And the reckless rain; you put them between walls
To work, broken and smothered, for bread and wages,
To eat dust in their throats and die empty-hearted
For a little handful of pay on a few Saturday nights.

1. Wistful
2. Timesweep
3. Hits and Runs
4. Government
5. Old-fashioned Requited Love

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1688

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