Broadway - New York July 1916 - Poem by George Sterling
Indifferent to a world in agony,
The drunken wasters crowd the cabaret,
Whose midnight orgies end but with the day.
O Liberty, are these the fruits of thee—
This swarm of vampires that the dark sets free,
To batten upon murder, and decay?
Are these our masters and the race their prey,
And hast thou long to live when such things be?
So in the wake of war do jackals come
To feast on those that perish in thy name,
And when the wounded breasts at last are dumb,
To howl exultant to the setting moon,
Till, frightened by the sun's returning flame,
They scamper to their holes and sleep by noon.
Comments about Broadway - New York July 1916 by George Sterling
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You