Yet more Brecht

Politics in many countries (to quote the four I’ve lived in, Italy, the UK, the US and Australia) fills me with despair – what sort of a world is my generation leaving to the next one? And all I can do is re-read a poem written by Bertolt Brecht during WWII (so what he called “dark times” were darker than 2018). The poem’s original title is “An die Nachgeborenen”, which has been translated as “To the Next Generations” or “To Those Who Will Come After Us”. The last lines are (my translations are clumsy, but I like them)

But you, when at last it happens / That human beings can help one another / Think of us / With forgiveness.