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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=366846" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Ballad Of The Children Of The Czar</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">1<br> <br>The children of the Czar<br>Played with a bouncing ball</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In the May morning, in the Czar's garden,<br>Tossing it back and forth.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It fell among the flowerbeds<br>Or fled to the north gate.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A daylight moon hung up<br>In the Western sky, bald white.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Like Papa's face, said Sister,<br>Hurling the white ball forth.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> 2</div><div style="margin:10px 0">While I ate a baked potato<br>Six thousand miles apart,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In Brooklyn, in 1916,<br>Aged two, irrational.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When Franklin D. Roosevelt<br>Was an Arrow Collar ad.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O Nicholas! Alas! Alas!<br>My grandfather coughed in your army,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hid in a wine-stinking barrel,<br>For three days in Bucharest</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then left for America<br>To become a king himself.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> 3<br> <br>I am my father's father,<br>You are your children's guilt.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In history's pity and terror<br>The child is Aeneas again;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Troy is in the nursery,<br>The rocking horse is on fire.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Child labor! The child must carry<br>His fathers on his back.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But seeing that so much is past<br>And that history has no ruth</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For the individual,<br>Who drinks tea, who catches cold,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Let anger be general:<br>I hate an abstract thing.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> 4</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Brother and sister bounced<br>The bounding, unbroken ball,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The shattering sun fell down<br>Like swords upon their play,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Moving eastward among the stars<br>Toward February and October.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But the Maywind brushed their cheeks<br>Like a mother watching sleep,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And if for a moment they fight<br>Over the bouncing ball</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And sister pinches brother<br>And brother kicks her shins,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Well! The heart of man in known:<br>It is a cactus bloom.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> 5<br> <br>The ground on which the ball bounces<br>Is another bouncing ball.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The wheeling, whirling world<br>Makes no will glad.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Spinning in its spotlight darkness,<br>It is too big for their hands.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A pitiless, purposeless Thing,<br>Arbitrary, and unspent,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Made for no play, for no children,<br>But chasing only itself.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The innocent are overtaken,<br>They are not innocent.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They are their father's fathers,<br>The past is inevitable.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> 6<br> <br>Now, in another October<br>Of this tragic star,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I see my second year,<br>I eat my baked potato.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It is my buttered world,<br>But, poked by my unlearned hand,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It falls from the highchair down<br>And I begin to howl</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And I see the ball roll under<br>The iron gate which is locked.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sister is screaming, brother is howling,<br>The ball has evaded their will.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Even a bouncing ball<br>Is uncontrollable,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And is under the garden wall.<br>I am overtaken by terror</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thinking of my father's fathers,<br>And of my own will.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Delmore+Schwartz">Delmore Schwartz</a><div class=q>
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The children of the Czar
Played with a bouncing ball

In the May morning, in the Czar's garden,
Tossing it back and forth.

It fell among the flowerbeds
Or fled to the north gate.

A daylight moon hung up
In the Western sky, bald white.

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