frank kretschmer wrote in part:
> Sandburg (don't throw things at me, reading his war poetry is worth while
> ... ranging from socialist war criticism to blunt propaganda),
It's hard enough writing in one's mother tongue, but in another language ...
! I don't envy you. Sandburg has some wonderful poems. Here's one I love.
Maybe you or others already know it.
To the Ghost of John Milton
If I should pamphleteer twenty years against royalists,
With rewards offered for my capture dead or alive,
And jails and scaffolds always near,
And then my wife should die and three ignorant daughters
Should talk about their father as a joke, and steal the
Earnings of books, and the poorhouse always reaching for me,
If I then lost my eyes and the world was all dark and I
Sat with only memories and talk—
I would write “Paradise Lost,” I would marry a second wife
And on her dying I would marry a third pair of eyes to
Serve my blind eyes, I would write “Paradise Regained,” I
Would write wild, foggy, smoky, wordy books—
I would sit by the fire and dream of hell and heaven,
Idiots and kings, women my eyes could never look on again,
And God Himself and the rebels God threw into hell.