POEM

The Old Codger’s Lament

by Carl Rakosi

Carl Rakosi
Who can say now,
“When I was young, the country was very beautiful?   
Oaks and willows grew along the rivers
and there were many herbs and flowering bushes.   
The forests were so dense the deer slipped through   
the cottonwoods and maples unseen.”

Who would listen?
Who will carry even the vicarious tone of that time?

In the old days
                        age was honored.
Today it’s whim,
                         the whelp without habitat.

Who will now admit
                            that he is either old or young   
or knows anything?
All that went out with the forests.

The son of German Jewish parents, Carl Rakosi was born in Berlin in 1903, moving soon to Hungary . . . MORE »

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