Bertolt Brecht

(10 February 1898 – 14 August 1956 / Augsburg)

Radio Poem - Poem by Bertolt Brecht

You little box, held to me escaping
So that your valves should not break
Carried from house to house to ship from sail to train,
So that my enemies might go on talking to me,
Near my bed, to my pain
The last thing at night, the first thing in the morning,
Of their victories and of my cares,
Promise me not to go silent all of a sudden.

Comments about Radio Poem by Bertolt Brecht

  • (2/10/2019 1:59:00 PM)

    Great we have to be told the truth however bad.Written by the man who I believe said elsewhere that he who smiles has not yet been told the news. (Report)Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Brian Jani (7/5/2014 3:42:00 PM)

    nice story telling poem.i look forward to reading your poetry (Report)Reply

    2 person liked.
    2 person did not like.
  • (12/3/2009 11:50:00 PM)

    Exile from Germany WAS painful for Brecht, who was never happy in the States.
    Despite the lies broadcast by the Nazis, the radio remained his treasured link to his beloved native language.

    6 person liked.
    3 person did not like.
Read all 3 comments »

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Read poems about / on: house, pain, night, poem

Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003

Famous Poems

  1. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  5. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  6. Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
    Mary Elizabeth Frye
  9. I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You
    Pablo Neruda
  10. Television
    Roald Dahl
[Report Error]