Analysis of To Posterity

Bertolt Brecht 1898 (Augsburg) – 1956 (East Berlin)



Indeed I live in the dark ages!
A guileless word is an absurdity. A smooth forehead betokens
A hard heart. He who laughs
Has not yet heard
The terrible tidings.

Ah, what an age it is
When to speak of trees is almost a crime
For it is a kind of silence about injustice!
And he who walks calmly across the street,
Is he not out of reach of his friends
In trouble?

It is true: I earn my living
But, believe me, it is only an accident.
Nothing that I do entitles me to eat my fill.
By chance I was spared. (If my luck leaves me
I am lost.)

They tell me: eat and drink. Be glad you have it!
But how can I eat and drink
When my food is snatched from the hungry
And my glass of water belongs to the thirsty?
And yet I eat and drink.

I would gladly be wise.
The old books tell us what wisdom is:
Avoid the strife of the world
Live out your little time
Fearing no one
Using no violence
Returning good for evil --
Not fulfillment of desire but forgetfulness
Passes for wisdom.
I can do none of this:
Indeed I live in the dark ages!

I came to the cities in a time of disorder
When hunger ruled.
I came among men in a time of uprising
And I revolted with them.
So the time passed away
Which on earth was given me.

I ate my food between massacres.
The shadow of murder lay upon my sleep.
And when I loved, I loved with indifference.
I looked upon nature with impatience.
So the time passed away
Which on earth was given me.

In my time streets led to the quicksand.
Speech betrayed me to the slaughterer.
There was little I could do. But without me
The rulers would have been more secure. This was my hope.
So the time passed away
Which on earth was given me.

You, who shall emerge from the flood
In which we are sinking,
Think --
When you speak of our weaknesses,
Also of the dark time
That brought them forth.

For we went,changing our country more often than our shoes.
In the class war, despairing
When there was only injustice and no resistance.

For we knew only too well:
Even the hatred of squalor
Makes the brow grow stern.
Even anger against injustice
Makes the voice grow harsh. Alas, we
Who wished to lay the foundations of kindness
Could not ourselves be kind.

But you, when at last it comes to pass
That man can help his fellow man,
Do no judge us
Too harshly.

translated by H. R. Hays


Scheme Aaxxx bcdxxe fxxgx xhggh xbxcxieaxdA jxfxKG xxiiKG xjgxKG xfhacx xfi xjxdglx xxlg x
Poetic Form
Metre 011100110 010111010001101 011111 1111 010010 111111 111111101 1110111001010 0111100101 111111111 010 11111110 101111101100 1011101011111 1111111111 111 11110111111 1111101 111111010 011110011010 011101 111011 011111101 0101101 111101 1011 101100 0101110 1010101011 10110 111111 011100110 1110100011010 1101 110110011010 0101011 101101 1111101 111101100 0111010111 01111110100 1101101010 101101 1111101 01111101 1011101 11101111011 0101111011111 101101 1111101 11101101 011110 1 111110100 101011 1111 11110101101101 0011010 1111001001010 1111011 10010110 10111 101001010 10111011 11110010110 1100111 111111111 11111101 1111 110 0101111
Closest metre Iambic tetrameter
Characters 2,227
Words 457
Sentences 44
Stanzas 13
Stanza Lengths 5, 6, 5, 5, 11, 6, 6, 6, 6, 3, 7, 4, 1
Lines Amount 71
Letters per line (avg) 25
Words per line (avg) 6
Letters per stanza (avg) 136
Words per stanza (avg) 35
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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on April 29, 2023

2:17 min read
257

Bertolt Brecht

Bertolt Brecht was a German poet, playwright, theatre director, and Marxist. more…

All Bertolt Brecht poems | Bertolt Brecht Books

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