Morris Rosenfeld

(1862-1923 / Poland)

Morris Rosenfeld Poems

41. On The Bosom Of The Ocean 4/22/2010
42. Liberty 4/22/2010
43. Creation Of Man 4/22/2010
44. My Boy 4/22/2010
45. In The Factory 4/22/2010
Best Poem of Morris Rosenfeld

In The Factory

Oh, here in the shop the machines roar so wildly,
That oft, unaware that I am, or have been,
I sink and am lost in the terrible tumult;
And void is my soul... I am but a machine.
I work and I work and I work, never ceasing;
Create and create things from morning till e'en;
For what?--and for whom--Oh, I know not! Oh, ask not!
Who ever has heard of a conscious machine?

No, here is no feeling, no thought and no reason;
This life-crushing labor has ever supprest
The noblest and finest, the truest and richest,
The deepest, the highest and humanly best.
The ...

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A Fellow Slave

Pale-faced is he, as in the door
He stands and trembles visibly,--
With diffidence approaches me,
And says: 'Dear editor,

'Since write you must, in prose or rhyme,
Expose my master's knavery,
Condemn, I pray, the slavery
That dominates our time.

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