{"id":14192,"date":"2014-09-02T10:22:54","date_gmt":"2014-09-02T14:22:54","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/peterlevine.ws\/?p=14192"},"modified":"2014-09-02T10:22:54","modified_gmt":"2014-09-02T14:22:54","slug":"future-generations","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/peterlevine.ws\/?p=14192","title":{"rendered":"To Future Generations"},"content":{"rendered":"

A poem for the summer of Ferguson, Gaza, ISIS, and Ukraine: Bertolt Brecht’s An die Nachgeborenen <\/em>(1939), in my translation from the very simple and direct German.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I<\/p>\n

Truly I live<\/span> in<\/span> dark times!<\/span>
\nA sincere<\/span> word<\/span> is folly<\/span>. A smooth forehead<\/span>
\nIndicates<\/span> insensitivity<\/span>. If you’re laughing,<\/span>
\nYou haven’t heard<\/span>
\nThe bad news yet<\/span>.<\/span><\/p>\n

What are these<\/span> times, when<\/span>
\nA<\/span> conversation about<\/span> trees is almost a<\/span> crime<\/span>
\nBecause it implies<\/span> silence about so<\/span> many<\/span> misdeeds<\/span>,
\nWhen, if<\/span> you’re calmly crossing<\/span> the<\/span> street,<\/span>
\nIt means your friends<\/span> can’t reach you
\nWho are in need<\/span>?<\/p>\n

It’s true<\/span>: I earn<\/span> a living<\/span>.
\nBut<\/span> believe me, that’<\/span>s just a coincidence. Nothing<\/span>
\nof what<\/span> I<\/span> do entitles<\/span> me<\/span> to eat my fill<\/span>.
\nIt’s a coincidence that I<\/span> am<\/span> spared<\/span>. (<\/span>If my luck<\/span> stops, I’<\/span>m lost.)<\/p>\n

They tell me<\/span>: eat and drink<\/span>! Be glad that<\/span> you did<\/span>!
\nBut<\/span> how can I eat<\/span> and<\/span> drink if<\/span>
\nWhat I eat is snatched from<\/span> the hungry<\/span>,
\nMy<\/span> glass of water<\/span> from someone dying of thirst<\/span>?
\nAnd yet<\/span> I eat and drink<\/span>.<\/p>\n

I<\/span> would<\/span> like to be wise<\/span>.
\nT<\/span>he old books<\/span> say<\/span> what<\/span> wisdom is:<\/span>
\nTo shun<\/span> the<\/span> strife of the world<\/span> and<\/span> spend the<\/span> short<\/span> time<\/span>
\nYou’ve got without<\/span> fear<\/span>.
\nDo without<\/span> violence<\/span>.
\nReturn good for evil<\/span>.
\nNot<\/span> fulfilling desires<\/span> but<\/span> forgett<\/span>ing
\nCounts as wisdom<\/span>.
\nI can’t do any of that<\/span>:
\nTruly I live<\/span> in<\/span> dark times!<\/span><\/p>\n

II<\/span><\/p>\n

I came to the <\/span>cities<\/span> in <\/span>a time of disorder<\/span>.
\nWhen <\/span>famine ruled<\/span>.
\nI came among<\/span> the<\/span> people<\/span> in a time<\/span> of turmoil<\/span>
\nAnd<\/span> I rebelled<\/span> with them<\/span>.
\nSo the time passed<\/span>
\nThat was given me on <\/span>earth<\/span>.<\/p>\n

I ate my food<\/span> between slaughters<\/span>.
\nMurder lay over my sleep.
\nI loved <\/span>carelessly<\/span>
\nAnd<\/span> I looked upon nature<\/span> with impatience<\/span>.
\nSo the time passed<\/span>
\nThat was given me on earth<\/span>.<\/p>\n

In my time, roads led into<\/span> the swamp<\/span>.
\nSpeech betrayed<\/span> me<\/span> to the slaughterer<\/span>.
\nI<\/span> could<\/span> do very little<\/span>. But<\/span> without me, <\/span>
\nRulers would have<\/span> sat<\/span> more securely, or so I hoped<\/span>.
\nSo the time passed<\/span>
\nThat <\/span>was given<\/span> me on earth<\/span>.<\/p>\n

Energies were<\/span> low.<\/span> The goal<\/span>
\nWas<\/span> far in the distance<\/span>,
\nClearly visible<\/span>, though<\/span> for me<\/span>
\nHard to<\/span> reach<\/span>.
\nSo the time passed<\/span>
\nThat was given me<\/span> on earth<\/span>.<\/p>\n

III<\/span><\/p>\n

You who<\/span> you will<\/span> emerge from the flood<\/span>
\nIn which we have<\/span> sunk<\/span>,
\nThink<\/span>
\nWhen<\/span> you speak of our<\/span> weaknesses<\/span>
\nAnd of<\/span> the dark<\/span> time<\/span>
\nThat <\/span>you have escaped<\/span>.<\/p>\n

For we went<\/span>, changing countries more often<\/span> than shoes<\/span>,
\nIn class wars<\/span>,* desperate<\/span>
\nWhen<\/span> there was only injustice<\/span> and<\/span> no<\/span> outrage<\/span>.<\/p>\n

This we<\/span> knew<\/span>:
\nEven<\/span> hatred of<\/span> humiliation<\/span>
\nDistorts the<\/span> features<\/span>.
\nEven anger<\/span> against injustice<\/span>
\nMakes the<\/span> voice<\/span> hoarse<\/span>. Oh<\/span>, we<\/span>
\nWho wanted to prepare<\/span> the ground for<\/span> friendliness<\/span>
\nCould not ourselves<\/span> be kind<\/span>.<\/p>\n

But you,<\/span> when<\/span>
\none<\/span> can<\/span><\/em> help another<\/span>,
\nThink of us<\/span>
\nForgivingly.<\/p>\n

*I translate Brecht’s phrase literally, although I do not agree that in his time or ours the situation can be adequately described as die Kriege der Klassen<\/em>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

A poem for the summer of Ferguson, Gaza, ISIS, and Ukraine: Bertolt Brecht’s An die Nachgeborenen (1939), in my translation from the very simple and direct German. I Truly I live in dark times! A sincere word is folly. A smooth forehead Indicates insensitivity. If you’re laughing, You haven’t heard The bad news yet. What […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1,16],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-14192","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized","category-verse-and-worse"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/peterlevine.ws\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14192","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/peterlevine.ws\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/peterlevine.ws\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/peterlevine.ws\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/peterlevine.ws\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=14192"}],"version-history":[{"count":10,"href":"https:\/\/peterlevine.ws\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14192\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":14214,"href":"https:\/\/peterlevine.ws\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14192\/revisions\/14214"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/peterlevine.ws\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=14192"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/peterlevine.ws\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=14192"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/peterlevine.ws\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=14192"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}