Letter of a 22 year old man to his son

[Söt]

The Pillars of Society, by George Grosz

"Grosz senantiasa menunggu detik yang penting itu di mana kapitalisme akan goyah lalu digantikan oleh komunisme, kerana untuknya itulah masa bila para seniman tidak akan tersisih lagi daripada masyarakat umum. Sayangnya, kapitalisme dan pasar bebas tetap bermaharaja lele sambil Marksisme yang dipeluknya semasa hidup kian tidak dipandang berat lagi."[/i]

I pass to thee the secret lessons of my life,
To thee whom I begat with such tears and such strife
And remain my daily pride and joy. O my son
These years see thine coming of age
And lucky were thou to be born to a father sage
For my time is as short as mine breath
Harken thou to me, even as my life ends
Soon the reins of fate pass too into thy hands
As life closes for me, and closes around thee.
Dream no lofty dreams, and give no heed to him
Who finds teaching and council a fancy of his whim
For even the best of teachers were born to deceive.

Think only of me and thineself my son, and dedicate not your life
To art or beauty. Beauty is ever an unfaithful wife
And Art the lover who does not love to tarry.
Dampen all righteous indigination, and cool down holy rage
Nor enslave thee to thine Highest Virtue's image
Nor should thou sacrifice life or offer goods or time
To Truth's altar, or to join strange crusades across hungry sands
Doomed to end with infamy far from your homelands,
For the profession of poets are a death sentence
On all who live for poetry, no matter how fast or elegant or trim
Are the verses and the meters written by the foolishness in him
Who draws loaves to stave of starvation-

For cruel indeed are the tears of those who will never marry,
And scant and short the lives of those who think poems carry
The weight ascribed by their authors in the marketplace of war.
Lost to his world in grief is he whose time
Is spent with his dead belief in silver linings in the clods of time
For all the beauty and skill that thou assayest,
In a single verse, a lone sentence
Never can ever pay for the maintenance
Of that life which the poet in poverty fails to celebrate.

MORAL:
Never take to poetry for a living, despite the temptation
And always look towards finding a reputable and well-paid occupation
For life is better lived and enjoyed, rather than written and suffered for.