Carl Sandburg
Carl Sandburg
Carl Sandburgwas an American poet, writer, and editor who won three Pulitzer Prizes: two for his poetry and one for his biography of Abraham Lincoln. During his lifetime, Sandburg was widely regarded as "a major figure in contemporary literature", especially for volumes of his collected verse, including Chicago Poems, Cornhuskers, and Smoke and Steel. He enjoyed "unrivaled appeal as a poet in his day, perhaps because the breadth of his experiences connected him with so many strands of American life",...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth6 January 1878
CountryUnited States of America
The past is a bucket of ashes
It was here we turned the coffee cups upside down. And your eyes and the moon swept the valley.
Now is the time. It is never too late to start something.
Lips half-willing in a doorway. Lips half-singing at a window. Eyes half-dreaming in the walls. Feet half-dancing in a kitchen. Even the clocks half-yawn the hours And the farmers make half-answers.
To those who had ordered them to death one of them said: 'We die because the people are asleep... you will die because the people will awaken'.
I am! I have come through! I belong!
The drum in a dream pounds loud to the dreamer.
There is an eagle in me that wants to soar...
Such a Big miracle in such a tiny baby. Big things often have small beginnings A baby is God's opinion that life should go on.
A liar is a liar and lives on the lies he tells and dies in a life of lies.
The scholars and poets of an earlier time can be read only with a dictionary to help.
Under the harvest moon, When the soft silver Drips shimmering Over the garden nights, Death, the gray mocker, Comes and whispers to you As a beautiful friend Who remembers.
Hog butcher for the world, Tool maker, stacker of wheat, Player with railroads and the nation's freight handler; Stormy, husky, brawling, City of big shoulders.
Not often in the story of mankind does a man arrive on earth who is both steel and velvet, who is as hard as rock and soft as drifting fog, who holds in his heart and mind the paradox of terrible storm and peace unspeakable and perfect.