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Comment 13 of 23, added on December 21st, 2012 at 12:26 AM.
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Comment 12 of 23, added on December 29th, 2011 at 2:33 PM.
you love this? for less suprisely
coifyrey from United States
Comment 11 of 23, added on January 4th, 2011 at 10:37 AM.
Four Preludes on Playthings of the Winds
I first learned about this glorious poem in 1967, back in Bucharest, where
I was born, and raised. I live for 27 years in the United States, and love
the country and the people. As a Romanian I witnessed the destruction of
the past, present and future, there, in those times, and I am saddened to
have encountered that again, here, in the States, and why not elsewhere in
the World. No matter how hard I tried to counteract the destructive nature
of anti-humanism thatís breaking us, one and all, there seems not to be a
solution to the ever turning of till under the plough. Like cattle to the
slaughter house civilizations taken and with it all there is within.
Indeed this poem is prophetic, visionary, and can be positive only looked
upon from the point of view of a human, not inhuman being.
George from United States
Comment 10 of 23, added on August 20th, 2010 at 11:03 PM.
The past is a bucket of ashes
I first heard this poem in 1953 when someone read it for a speech contest.
I had hoped this would never come true but when I look around me at people
who are more interested in entertainment, sports, money, and the
politicians who rule them, I am filled with fear.
from United States
Comment 9 of 23, added on May 25th, 2010 at 10:02 PM.
1966 in high school I first read this poem. I've always remembered the
haunt of its meaning. Now today it looks more real and possiable. I never
thought that in 1966 I would see the world as it is today. No means for a
college education,no future jobs they are gone. We now have ghost towns in
our midst. Who could have told me this in 1966 that I would beleive the
drastic changes. 2 percent control what the 98 percent do. That I later
learned in college.
Comment 8 of 23, added on April 5th, 2010 at 1:09 PM.
It seems that one could easily predict our current laments. We wail about
economic ruin, moral decay, and a frightening future for our Country. In my
view, we have spent far too much play time, forgetting that mischief has
taken over only to end with grief and remorse. History should remind
everyone that adults are supposed to live responsibly, helping children
grow up to be productive, happy citizens, not players.
Phyllis Ann Bishop Taylor from United States
Comment 7 of 23, added on December 3rd, 2009 at 10:43 AM.
I am 65 and first read this poem many years ago in a Junior High literature
book. I was mesmerized and haunted by the imagery and it compelled me to
become a writer. I looked for it for years before once more finding it.
America, pay heed, for this may be your future.
Jim Moore from United States
Comment 6 of 23, added on November 16th, 2009 at 3:38 PM.
Carl Sandburg and Louis Sullivan
The refrain has stayed with me for fifty years. When I finally refound it
today, I couldn't help think of all the architecture in Chicago who meets
the wrecking ball held by the WOMAN named To-morrow. Was this Sullivan's
Stock Exchange Room which rests now in the Art Institute of Chicago. And
where are all the other grand works? "The dust on the sill tells us
Joanne Henriot from United States
Comment 5 of 23, added on May 17th, 2009 at 9:09 PM.
Even the great poet seems trapped in the meme "civilization". Easy for me
to say in 2008, but Spengler was of Sandburg's era. Ruins aren't
decipherable? Quite the contrary. They are the most eloquent of
instructors. I often wonder if other empires were as myopic as the poem
asserts. Even the British had the humility to school their ruling class in
antiquity. Our Empire was founded on the immersion in in this inheritance,
so quickly eclipsed by money power and now, new trance inducted serfs.
from United States
Comment 4 of 23, added on October 28th, 2007 at 7:35 PM.
I've never believed that the United States would be everlasting, but I also
never believed that our position in the world should be thrown away as is
being done. The anguish is excruciationg.
Don Gerimonte from United States
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