My young son asks me… (Bertolt Brecht Poem)
My young son asks me: Must I learn mathematics? What is the use, I feel like saying. That two pieces ...
My young son asks me: Must I learn mathematics? What is the use, I feel like saying. That two pieces ...
I Oh Galuppi, Baldassaro, this is very sad to find! I can hardly misconceive you; it would prove me deaf ...
O A' ye pious godly flocks, Weel fed on pastures orthodox, Wha now will keep you frae the fox, Or ...
Sharecroppers' child, she was more schooled In slaughtering pigs and coaxing corn out of The ground than in the laws ...
I MET a Seer, Passing the hues and objects of the world, The fields of art and learning, pleasure, sense, ...
A smile fell in the grass. Irretrievable! And how will your night dances Lose themselves. In mathematics? Such pure leaps ...
All night long the hockey pictures gaze down at you sleeping in your tracksuit. Belligerent goalies are your ideal. Threats ...
Within this sober Frame expect Work of no Forrain Architect; That unto Caves the Quarries drew, And Forrests did to ...
I am fourteen and my skin has betrayed me the boy I cannot live without still sucks his tumb in ...
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