"Poems Belonging to a Reader for Those who Live in Cities" [Zum Lesebuch für Städtebewohner gehörige Gedichte] (1926-1927), poem 10, trans. Frank Jones in Poems, 1913-1956, p. 148
German poet, playwright, and theatre director (1898–1956)
Eugen Berthold Friedrich Brecht (10 February 1898 – 14 August 1956), commonly known as Bertolt Brecht, was a German Marxist dramatist, stage director and poet. He is remembered for the Distancing effect practice in performing arts (known in German as Verfremdungseffekt or V-Effekt).
From: Wikiquote (CC BY-SA 4.0)
Pen Names:
Berthold Larsen
Alternative Names:
Berŭtʻoltʻŭ Bŭrehitʻŭ
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Pertōl Pirekcṭ
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Mpertolt Mprecht
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Pu-lai-hsi-tʻe
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Pertōlṭ Pirekcṭ
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Perṭōlṭ Pireṣṭ
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Bertolt Breht
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Bert Brecht
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Eugen Berthold Friedrich Brecht
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Bertholt Brecht
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Bertolʹd Brekht
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Bertolʹt Brekht
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Bertold Brecht
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Bŭrehitʻŭ
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Pei-tʻo-erh-tʻe Pu-lai-hsi-tʻe
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Marie Farrar: month of birth, April
Died in the Meissen penitentiary
An unwed mother, judged by the law, she will
Show you how all that lives, lives frailly.
You who bear your sons in laundered linen sheets
And call your pregnancies a "blessed" state
Should never damn the outcast and the weak:
Her sin was heavy, but her suffering great.
Therefore, I beg, make not your anger manifest
For all that lives needs help from all the rest.
The theater-goer in conventional dramatic theater says: Yes, I've felt that way, too. That's the way I am. That's life. That's the way it will always be. The suffering of this or that person grips me because there is no escape for him. That's great art — Everything is self-evident. I am made to cry with those who cry, and laugh with those who laugh. But the theater-goer in the epic theater says: I would never have thought that. You can't do that. That's very strange, practically unbelievable. That has to stop. The suffering of this or that person grips me because there is an escape for him. That's great art — nothing is self-evident. I am made to laugh about those who cry, and cry about those who laugh.
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Firebugs dragging their gasoline bottles Are approaching the Academy of Arts, with a grin. And so, instead of embracing them, Let us demand the freedom of the elbow To knock the bottles out of their filthy hands. Even the most blockheaded bureaucrat, Provided he loves peace, Is a greater lover of the arts Than any so-called art-lover Who loves the arts of war.