kvetchlandia:Grete Stern     Bertolt Brecht, London     1934AMONGST TH

kvetchlandia:Grete Stern     Bertolt Brecht, London     1934AMONGST THE HIGHLY PLACEDIt is considered low to talk about food.The fact is: they haveAlready eaten.The lowly must leave this earthWithout having tastedAny good meat.For wondering where they come from andWhere they are goingThe fine evenings find themToo exhausted.They have not yet seenThe mountains and the great seaWhen their time is already up.If the lowly do notThink about what’s lowThey will never rise.THE BREAD OF THE HUNGRY HASALL BEEN EATENMeat has become unknown. UselessThe pouring out of the people’s sweat.The laurel groves have beenLopped down.From the chimneys of the arms factoriesRises smoke.THE HOUSE-PAINTER SPEAKS OFGREAT TIMES TO COMEThe forests still grow.The fields still bearThe cities still stand.The people still breathe.ON THE CALENDAR THE DAY IS NOTYET SHOWNEvery month, every dayLies open still. One of those daysIs going to be marked with a cross.THE WORKERS CRY OUT FOR BREADThe merchants cry out for markets.The unemployed were hungry. The employedAre hungry now.The hands that lay folded are busy again.They are making shells.THOSE WHO TAKE THE MEAT FROM THE TABLETeach contentment.Those for whom the contribution is destinedDemand sacrifice.Those who eat their fill speak to the hungryOf wonderful times to come.Those who lead the country into the abyssCall ruling too difficultFor ordinary men.WHEN THE LEADERS SPEAK OF PEACEThe common folk knowThat war is coming.When the leaders curse warThe mobilization order is already written out.THOSE AT THE TOP SAY: PEACEAND WARAre of different substance.But their peace and their warAre like wind and storm.War grows from their peaceLike son from his motherHe bearsHer frightful features.Their war killsWhatever their peaceHas left over.ON THE WALL WAS CHALKED:They want war.The man who wrote itHas already fallen.THOSE AT THE TOP SAY:This way to glory.Those down below say:This way to the grave.THE WAR WHICH IS COMINGIs not the first one. There wereOther wars before it.When the last one came to an endThere were conquerors and conquered.Among the conquered the common peopleStarved. Among the conquerorsThe common people starved too.THOSE AT THE TOP SAY COMRADESHIPReigns in the army.The truth of this is seenIn the cookhouse.In their hearts should beThe selfsame courage. ButOn their platesAre two kinds of rations.WHEN IT COMES TO MARCHING MANY DO NOTKNOWThat their enemy is marching at their head.The voice which gives them their ordersIs their enemy’s voice andThe man who speaks of the enemyIs the enemy himself.IT IS NIGHTThe married couplesLie in their beds. The young womenWill bear orphans.GENERAL, YOUR TANK IS A POWERFUL VEHICLEIt smashes down forests and crushes a hundred men.But it has one defect:It needs a driver.General, your bomber is powerful.It flies faster than a storm and carries more than an elephant.But it has one defect:It needs a mechanic.General, man is very useful.He can fly and he can kill.But he has one defect:He can think.– Bertolt Brecht, “A German War Primer,” from the “Svendborg Poems,” 1938 -- source link

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