It is National Poetry Month. In honor of that, I'll be posting poems here from time to time during this month (and with greater frequency than I normally post poetry). I'll start with a Brecht poem I just discovered:
"When the regime ordered
Books with dangerous knowledge
To be burned in public and everywhere
Oxen were forced to pull, carts with books
to the bonfires, one of the persecuted poets
discovered one of the best
studying the list of the burned
disconcerted, that his books were forgotten.
He rushed to his desk, flying on wings of rage
and wrote a letter to the the authorities.
Burn me! he wrote with a quick stroke
Burn me! don't do this to me! Do not spare me!
Have I not always reported the truth in my books?
Yet now you treat me as were I a liar!
I command you: Burn me! "
Bertolt BRECHT
Poem titled "The Bookburning" (Die Bücherverbrennung)
German dramatist and poet (1898-1956)
UPDATE:
my dad googled around and found a different translation that he likes better. Thanks, da!
Bertold Brecht, in his poem The Bookburning tells of the poet who understood that sometimes, having your books burned can be considered an honor:
When the Regime ordered that books with dangerous teachings
Should be publicly burnt and everywhere
Oxen were forced to draw carts full of books
To the funeral pyre, an exiled poet,
One of the best, discovered with fury, when he studied the list
Of the burned, that his books
Had been forgotten. He rushed to his writing table
On wings of anger and wrote a letter to those in power.
Burn me, he wrote with hurrying pen, burn me!
Do not treat me in this fashion. Don't leave me out. Have I not
Always spoken the truth in my books? And now
You treat me like a liar! I order you:
Burn me!