Share this page :
Bertolt Brecht (10 February 1898 – 14 August 1956 / Augsburg)
My young son asks me...
My young son asks me: Must I learn mathematics?
What is the use, I feel like saying. That two pieces
Of bread are more than one's about all you'll end up with.
My young son asks me: Must I learn French?
What is the use, I feel like saying. This State's collapsing.
And if you just rub your belly with your hand and
Groan, you'll be understood with little trouble.
My young son asks me: Must I learn history?
What is the use, I feel like saying. Learn to stick
Your head in the earth, and maybe you'll still survive.
Yes, learn mathematics, I tell him.
Learn your French, learn your history!
Read poems about / on: history, son
PoemHunter.com Updates
-
World Day for Cultural Diversity for Dialogue and Development
celebrated on May 21st every year
-
Your Favorite Poets’ Favorite Books of Poetry
-
Daily Rituals of Famous Authors
Writers seem to be the most prone to unshakeable routines and elaborate superstitions.
-
Incredible Reading Rooms Around the World
Cozy, beautiful places to curl up with a good book...
Top 500 Poems
-
Phenomenal Woman
Maya Angelou
-
The Road Not Taken
Robert Frost
-
Still I Rise
Maya Angelou
-
If You Forget Me
Pablo Neruda
-
Dreams
Langston Hughes
-
Annabel Lee
Edgar Allan Poe
-
If
Rudyard Kipling
-
A Dream Within A Dream
Edgar Allan Poe
-
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
Robert Frost
-
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Maya Angelou
Brecht is right.Knowing these subjects isn't going to guarantee survival of the species, but then what is? Like Father Christmas, adults are sometimes dubious about what we are expected to pass on to the next generation, but we do so because we have nothing better to put in its place.Any improvement should be welcome.