Poésies de Carl Sandburg

usPoésie américaine


  • A Coin

    Your western heads here cast on money,
    You are the two that fade away together,
    Partners in the mist.

  • A Fence

    Now the stone house on the lake front is finished and the
    workmen are beginning the fence.

  • A Sphinx

    Close-mouthed you sat five thousand years and never let out a whisper.

  • A Teamster's Farewell

    Sobs En Route to a Penitentiary
    Good-by now to the streets and the clash of wheels and
    locking hubs,

  • A.E.F.

    There will be a rusty gun on the wall, sweetheart,
    The rifle grooves curling with flakes of rust.

  • All Day Long

    All day long in fog and wind,
    The waves have flung their beating crests
    Against the palisades of adamant.

  • Among the Red Guns

    Among the red guns,
    In the hearts of soldiers
    Running free blood
    In the long, long campaign:
    Dreams go on.

  • And They Obey

    Smash down the cities.
    Knock the walls to pieces.
    Break the factories and cathedrals, warehouses
    and homes

  • Anna Imroth

    Cross the hands over the breast here--so.
    Straighten the legs a little more--so.

  • Aprons of Silence

    Many things I might have said today.
    And I kept my mouth shut.
    So many times I was asked
    To come and say the same things

  • Tous les poèmes de Carl Sandburg débutant par la lettre A


  • 'Boes

    I waited today for a freight train to pass.
    Cattle cars with steers butting their horns against the
    bars, went by.

  • Back Yard

    Shine on, O moon of summer.
    Shine to the leaves of grass, catalpa and oak,
    All silver under your rain to-night.

  • Bas-Relief

    Five geese deploy mysteriously.
    Onward proudly with flagstaffs,
    Hearses with silver bugles,
    Bushes of plum-blossoms dropping

  • Bath

    A man saw the whole world as a grinning skull and cross-bones. The rose flesh of life shriveled from all faces. Nothing counts.

  • Between Two Hills

    Between two hills
    The old town stands.
    The houses loom
    And the roofs and trees
    And the dusk and the dark,
    The damp and the dew

  • Blacklisted

    Why shall I keep the old name?
    What is a name anywhere anyway?

  • Blue Island Intersection

    Six streets come together here.
    They feed people and wagons into the center.

  • Bones

    Sling me under the sea.
    Pack me down in the salt and wet.
    No farmer?s plow shall touch my bones.

  • Bricklayer Love

    I thought of killing myself because I am only a bricklayer
    and you a woman who loves the man who runs a drug store.

  • Bringers

    Cover me over
    In dusk and dust and dreams.
    Cover me over
    And leave me alone.
    Cover me over,
    You tireless, great.

  • Tous les poèmes de Carl Sandburg débutant par la lettre B


  • Chamfort

    There's Chamfort. He?s a sample.
    Locked himself in his library with a gun,
    Shot off his nose and shot out his right eye.

  • Chicago

    Hog Butcher for the World,
    Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat,
    Player with Railroads and the Nation's Freight Handler;

  • Chicago Poet

    I saluted a nobody.
    I saw him in a looking-glass.
    He smiled--so did I.

  • Child

    The young child, Christ, is straight and wise
    And asks questions of the old men, questions

  • Child Moon

    The child's wonder
    At the old moon
    Comes back nightly.
    She points her finger
    To the far silent yellow thing

  • Child of the Romans

    The dago shovelman sits by the railroad track
    Eating a noon meal of bread and bologna.

  • Choices

    They offer you many things,
    I a few.
    Moonlight on the play of fountains at night
    With water sparkling a drowsy monotone,

  • Choose

    The single clenched fist lifted and ready,
    Or the open asking hand held out and waiting.

  • Clark Street Bridge

    Dust of the feet
    And dust of the wheels,
    Wagons and people going,
    All day feet and wheels.
    Now. . .
    . . Only stars and mist

  • Cool Tombs

    When Abraham Lincoln was shoveled into the tombs he forgot
    the copperheads and the assassin . . . in the dust, in the

  • Tous les poèmes de Carl Sandburg débutant par la lettre C


  • Death Snips Proud Men

    DEATH is stronger than all the governments because
    the governments are men and men die and then

  • Docks

    Strolling along
    By the teeming docks,
    I watch the ships put out.
    Black ships that heave and lunge
    And move like mastodons

  • Dream Girl

    You will come one day in a waver of love,
    Tender as dew, impetuous as rain,
    The tan of the sun will be on your skin,

  • Dreams in the Dusk

    Dreams in the dusk,
    Only dreams closing the day
    And with the day?s close going back
    To the gray things, the dark things,

  • Dunes

    What do we see here in the sand dunes of the white moon alone with our thoughts, Bill,

  • Dust

    Here is dust remembers it was a rose
    one time and lay in a woman's hair.
    Here is dust remembers it was a woman

  • Dusty Doors

    Child of the Aztec gods,
    how long must we listen here,
    how long before we go?
    The dust is deep on the lintels.

  • Dynamiter

    I sat with a dynamiter at supper in a German saloon eating steak and onions.


  • Evening Waterfall

    What is the name you called me?--
    And why did you go so soon?
    The crows lift their caws on the wind,


  • Fellow Citizens

    I drank musty ale at the Illinois Athletic Club with
    the millionaire manufacturer of Green River butter
    one night

  • Fire Pages

    I will read ashes for you, if you ask me.
    I will look on the fire and tell you from the gray lashes

  • Fish Crier

    I know a Jew fish crier down on Maxwell Street with a voice like a north wind blowing over corn stubble in January.

  • Flanders

    Flanders, the name of a place, a country of people,
    Spells itself with letters, is written in books.

  • Flux

    Sand of the sea runs red
    Where the sunset reaches and quivers.
    Sand of the sea runs yellow
    Where the moon slants and wavers.

  • Fog

    The fog comes
    on little cat feet.
    It sits looking
    over harbor and city
    on silent haunches
    and then moves on.

  • Follies

    The blossoms of lilac,
    And shattered,
    The atoms of purple.
    Green dip the leaves,
    Darker the bark,
    Longer the shadows.

  • From the Shore

    A lone gray bird,
    Dim-dipping, far-flying,
    Alone in the shadows and grandeurs and tumults
    Of night and the sea


  • Gone

    Everybody loved Chick Lorimer in our town.
    Far off
    Everybody loved her.
    So we all love a wild girl keeping a hold

  • Good Night

    Many ways to say good night.
    Fireworks at a pier on the Fourth of July
    spell it with red wheels and yellow spokes.

  • Government

    The Government -- I heard about the Government and
    I went out to find it. I said I would look closely at
    it when I saw it.

  • Graceland

    Tomb of a millionaire,
    A multi-millionaire, ladies and gentlemen,
    Place of the dead where they spend every year

  • Grass

    Pile the bodies high at Austerlitz and Waterloo.
    Shovel them under and let me work--
    I am the grass; I cover all.

  • Graves

    I dreamed one man stood against a thousand,
    One man damned as a wrongheaded fool.
    One year and another he walked the streets,

  • Gypsy

    I asked a gypsy pal
    To imitate an old image
    And speak old wisdom.
    She drew in her chin,
    Made her neck and head


  • Halsted Street Car

    Come you, cartoonists,
    Hang on a strap with me here
    At seven o?clock in the morning
    On a Halsted street car.
    Take your pencils

  • Happiness

    I asked the professors who teach the meaning of life to tell
    me what is happiness.

  • Harrison Street Court

    I heard a woman's lips
    Speaking to a companion
    Say these words:
    "A woman what hustles
    Never keeps nothin'

  • Haunts

    There are places I go when I am strong.
    One is a marsh pool where I used to go
    with a long-ear hound-dog.

  • Hell on the Wabash

    When country fiddlers held a convention in
    Danville, the big money went to a barn dance

  • Honky Tonk in Cleveland, Ohio

    It's a jazz affair, drum crashes and coronet razzes.
    The trombone pony neighs and the tuba jackass snorts.

  • Hope Is a Tattered Flag

    Hope is a tattered flag and a dream of time.
    Hope is a heartspun word, the rainbow, the shadblow in white

  • Horses and Men in Rain

    Let us sit by a hissing steam radiator a winter's day, gray wind pattering frozen raindrops on the window,

  • Hydrangeas

    Dragoons, I tell you the white hydrangeas turn rust and go soon.
    Already mid September a line of brown runs over them.


  • I Am the People, the Mob

    I am the people--the mob--the crowd--the mass.
    Do you know that all the great work of the world is
    done through me?

  • I Sang

    I sang to you and the moon
    But only the moon remembers.
    I sang
    O reckless free-hearted
    free-throated rythms,

  • Ice Handler

    I know an ice handler who wears a flannel shirt with pearl buttons the size of a dollar,

  • Improved Farm Land

    Tall timber stood here once, hee on a corn belt farm along the Monon.

  • In a Back Alley

    Remembrance for a great man is this.
    The newsies are pitching pennies.
    And on the copper disk is the man?s face.

  • In a Breath

    To the Williamson Brothers
    High noon. White sun flashes on the Michigan Avenue
    asphalt. Drum of hoofs and whirr of motors.

  • Interior

    In the cool of the night time
    The clocks pick off the points
    And the mainsprings loosen.
    They will need winding.

  • Iron

    Long, steel guns,
    Pointed from the war ships
    In the name of the war god.
    Straight, shining, polished guns,

  • It Is Much

    Women of night life amid the lights
    Where the line of your full, round throats
    Matches in gleam the glint of your eyes


  • Jack

    Jack was a swarthy, swaggering son-of-a-gun.

  • Jaws

    Seven nations stood with their hands on the jaws of death.
    It was the first week in August, Nineteen Hundred Fourteen.

  • Joy

    Let a joy keep you.
    Reach out your hands
    And take it when it runs by,
    As the Apache dancer
    Clutches his woman.
    I have seen them

  • June

    Paula is digging and shaping the loam of a salvia,
    Scarlet Chinese talker of summer.

  • Jungheimer's

    In western fields of corn and northern timber lands,
    They talk about me, a saloon with a soul,


  • Killers

    I am singing to you
    Soft as a man with a dead child speaks;
    Hard as a man in handcuffs,
    Held where he cannot move:

  • Kin

    Brother, I am fire
    Surging under the ocean floor.
    I shall never meet you, brother?
    Not for years, anyhow;


  • Languages

    There are no handles upon a language
    Whereby men take hold of it
    And mark it with signs for its remembrance.

  • Last Answers

    I wrote a poem on the mist
    And a woman asked me what I meant by it.
    I had thought till then only of the beauty of the mist,

  • Laughing Corn

    There was a high majestic fooling
    Day before yesterday in the yellow corn.
    And day after to-morrow in the yellow corn

  • Lawyer

    When the jury files in to deliver a verdict after weeks of direct and cross examinations, hot clashes

  • Letters to Dead Imagists

    You gave us the bumble bee who has a soul,
    The everlasting traveler among the hollyhocks,

  • Limited

    I am riding on a limited express, one of the crack trains
    of the nation.

  • Loam

    In the loam we sleep,
    In the cool moist loam,
    To the lull of years that pass
    And the break of stars,
    From the loam, then,

  • Localities

    Wagon wheel gap is a place I never saw
    And Red Horse Gulch and the chutes of Cripple Creek.

  • Losses

    I have love
    And a child,
    A banjo
    And shadows.
    (Losses of God,
    All will go
    And one day
    We will hold
    Only the shadows.)

  • Lost

    Desolate and lone
    All night long on the lake
    Where fog trails and mist creeps,
    The whistle of a boat


  • Mag

    I wish to God I never saw you, Mag.
    I wish you never quit your job and came along with me.

  • Mamie

    Mamie beat her head against the bars of a little Indiana town and dreamed of romance and big things off somewhere the way the r

  • Manitoba Childe Roland

    LAST night a January wind was ripping at the shingles
    over our house and whistling a wolf song under the

  • Manual System

    Mary has a thingamajig clamped on her ears
    And sits all day taking plugs out and sticking plugs in.

  • Margaret

    Many birds and the beating of wings
    Make a flinging reckless hum
    In the early morning at the rocks
    Above the blue pool

  • Mask

    Fling your red scarf faster and faster, dancer.
    It is summer and the sun loves a million green leaves, masses of green.

  • Masses

    Among the mountains I wandered and saw blue haze and red crag and was amazed;

  • Maybe

    Maybe he believes me, maybe not.
    Maybe I can marry him, maybe not.
    Maybe the wind on the prairie,
    The wind on the sea, maybe,

  • Medallion

    The brass medallion profile of your face I keep always.
    It is not jingling with loose change in my pockets.

  • Mill-Doors

    You never come back.
    I say good-by when I see you going in the doors,
    The hopeless open doors that call and wait

  • Tous les poèmes de Carl Sandburg débutant par la lettre M


  • Neighbors

    On Forty-first Street
    near Eighth Avenue
    a frame house wobbles.
    If houses went on crutches
    this house would be

  • Nigger

    I am the nigger.
    Singer of songs,
    Softer than fluff of cotton?
    Harder than dark earth
    Roads beaten in the sun

  • Nocturne in a Deserted Brickyard

    Stuff of the moon
    Runs on the lapping sand
    Out to the longest shadows.
    Under the curving willows,

  • Noon Hour

    She sits in the dust at the walls
    And makes cigars,
    Bending at the bench
    With fingers wage-anxious,


  • Old Woman

    The owl-car clatters along, dogged by the echo
    From building and battered paving-stone.
    The headlight scoffs at the mist,

  • Omaha

    Red barns and red heiffers spot the green
    grass circles around Omaha--the farmers
    haul tanks of cream and wagon-loads of

  • On the Breakwater

    On the breakwater in the summer dark, a man and a girl are sitting,
    She across his knee and they are looking face into face

  • On the Way

    Little one, you have been buzzing in the books,
    Flittering in the newspapers and drinking beer with lawyers

  • Onion Days

    Mrs. Gabrielle Giovannitti comes along Peoria Street
    every morning at nine o'clock

  • Our Prayer of Thanks

    For the gladness here where the sun is shining at evening on the weeds at the river,
    Our prayer of thanks.


  • Pals

    Take a hold now
    On the silver handles here,
    Six silver handles,
    One for each of his old pals.
    Take hold

  • Passers-By

    Out of your many faces
    Flash memories to me
    Now at the day end
    Away from the sidewalks

  • Pearl Fog

    Open the door now.
    Go roll up the collar of your coat
    To walk in the changing scarf of mist.

  • Pennsylvania

    I have been in Pennsylvania,
    In the Monongahela and Hocking Valleys.
    In the blue Susquehanna
    On a Saturday morning

  • People Who Must

    I painted on the roof of a skyscraper.
    I painted a long while and called it a day's work.

  • Personality

    Musings of a Police Reporter in the Identification Bureau
    You have loved forty women, but you have only one thumb.

  • Picnic Boat

    Sunday night and the park policemen tell each other it
    is dark as a stack of black cats on Lake Michigan.

  • Plowboy

    After the last red sunset glimmer,
    Black on the line of a low hill rise,
    Formed into moving shadows, I saw

  • Poems Done On A Late Night Car

    I am The Great White Way of the city:
    When you ask what is my desire, I answer:

  • Pool

    Out of the fire
    Came a man sunken
    To less than cinders,
    A tea-cup of ashes or so.
    And I,
    The gold in the house,

  • Tous les poèmes de Carl Sandburg débutant par la lettre P


  • Ready to Kill

    Ten minutes now I have been looking at this.
    I have gone by here before and wondered about it.

  • River Roads

    Let the crows go by hawking their caw and caw.
    They have been swimming in midnights of coal mines somewhere.


  • Salvage

    Guns on the battle lines have pounded now a year
    between Brussels and Paris.

  • Sea Slant

    On up the sea slant,
    On up the horizon,
    The ship limps.
    The bone of her nose fog-gray,
    The heart of her sea-strong,

  • Sea-Wash

    The sea-wash never ends.
    The sea-wash repeats, repeats.
    Only old songs? Is that all the sea knows?
    Only the old strong songs?

  • Sheep

    Thousands of sheep, soft-footed, black-nosed sheep--
    one by one going up the hill and over the fence--one by

  • Shirt

    My shirt is a token and symbol,
    more than a cover for sun and rain,
    my shirt is a signal,
    and a teller of souls.

  • Silver Nails

    A man was crucified. He came to the city a stranger,
    was accused, and nailed to a cross. He lingered hanging.

  • Sixteen Months

    On the lips of the child Janet float changing dreams.
    It is a thin spiral of blue smoke,
    A morning campfire at a mountain lake.

  • Sketch

    The shadows of the ships
    Rock on the crest
    In the low blue lustre
    Of the tardy and the soft inrolling tide.

  • Skyscraper

    By day the skyscraper looms in the smoke and sun and
    has a soul.
    Prairie and valley, streets of the city, pour people into

  • Soiled Dove

    Let us be honest; the lady was not a harlot until she
    married a corporation lawyer who picked her from
    a Ziegfeld chorus.

  • Tous les poèmes de Carl Sandburg débutant par la lettre S


  • The Answer

    You have spoken the answer.
    A child searches far sometimes
    Into the red dust
    On a dark rose leaf
    And so you have gone far

  • The Great Hunt

    I cannot tell you now;
    When the wind?s drive and whirl
    Blow me along no longer,
    And the wind?s a whisper at last?

  • The Hangman at Home

    What does a hangman think about
    When he goes home at night from work?
    When he sits down with his wife and

  • The Harbor

    Passing through huddled and ugly walls
    By doorways where women
    Looked from their hunger-deep eyes,

  • The Has-Been

    A stone face higher than six horses stood five thousand years gazing at the world seeming to clutch a secret.

  • The Junk Man

    I am glad God saw Death
    And gave Death a job taking care of all who are tired of living:

  • The Mayor of Gary

    I asked the mayor of Gary about the 12-hour day and the 7-day week.

  • The Mist

    I am the mist, the impalpable mist,
    Back of the thing you seek.
    My arms are long,
    Long as the reach of time and space.

  • The Noon Hour

    She sits in the dust at the walls
    And makes cigars,
    Bending at the bench
    With fingers wage-anxious,

  • The Red Son

    I love your faces I saw the many years
    I drank your milk and filled my mouth
    With your home talk, slept in your house

  • Tous les poèmes de Carl Sandburg débutant par la lettre T


  • Under

    I am the undertow
    Washing tides of power
    Battering the pillars
    Under your things of high law.
    I am a sleepless

  • Under A Hat Rim

    While the hum and the hurry
    Of passing footfalls
    Beat in my ear like the restless surf
    Of a wind-blown sea,
    A soul came to me

  • Under a Telephone Pole

    I am a copper wire slung in the air,
    Slim against the sun I make not even a clear line of shadow.

  • Under the Harvest Moon

    Under the harvest moon,
    When the soft silver
    Drips shimmering
    Over the garden nights,
    Death, the gray mocker,

  • Uplands In May

    Wonder as of old things
    Fresh and fair come back
    Hangs over pasture and road.
    Lush in the lowland grasses rise

  • Upstairs

    I too have a garret of old playthings.
    I have tin soldiers with broken arms upstairs.


  • Valley Song

    Your eyes and the valley are memories.
    Your eyes fire and the valley a bowl.
    It was here a moonrise crept over the timberline.


  • Waiting

    Today I will let the old boat stand
    Where the sweep of the harbor tide comes in
    To the pulse of a far, deep-steady sway.

  • Wars

    In the old wars drum of hoofs and the beat of shod feet.
    In the new wars hum of motors and the tread of rubber tires.

  • White Shoulders

    Your white shoulders
    I remember
    And your shrug of laughter.
    Low laughter
    Shaken slow
    From your white shoulders.

  • Whitelight

    Your whitelight flashes the frost to-night
    Moon of the purple and silent west.
    Remember me one of your lovers of dreams.

  • Who Am I?

    My head knocks against the stars.
    My feet are on the hilltops.
    My finger-tips are in the valleys and shores of
    universal life.

  • Window

    Night from a railroad car window
    Is a great, dark, soft thing
    Broken across with slashes of light.

  • Working Girls

    The working girls in the morning are going to work--
    long lines of them afoot amid the downtown stores


  • Young Sea

    The sea is never still.
    It pounds on the shore
    Restless as a young heart,
    The sea speaks
    And only the stormy hearts