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More poems by Bertolt BrechtBertolt Brecht | Print this page.Print | Order a PoetryNotes Analysis of this poem.Analysis | View and Write CommentsComments

My young son asks me...

Bertolt Brecht

My young son asks me: Must I learn mathematics?
What is the use, I feel like saying. That two pieces
Of bread are more than one's about all you'll end up with.
My young son asks me: Must I learn French?
What is the use, I feel like saying. This State's collapsing.
And if you just rub your belly with your hand and
Groan, you'll be understood with little trouble.
My young son asks me: Must I learn history?
What is the use, I feel like saying. Learn to stick
Your head in the earth, and maybe you'll still survive.

Yes, learn mathematics, I tell him.
Learn your French, learn your history!

Added: 31 Aug 2001 | Last Read: 8 Nov 2009 3:01 AM | Viewed: 4226 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/651/ | Viewed on 8 November 2009.
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