A selection by one of America's greatest poets of 79 of his poems particularly suitable for children, to which he has added 16 new poems. 7 line drawings by William A. Smith
Free verse poems of known American writer Carl August Sandburg celebrated American people, geography, and industry; alongside his six-volume biography Abraham Lincoln (1926-1939), his collections of poetry include Smoke and Steel (1920).
This best editor won Pulitzer Prizes. Henry Louis Mencken called Carl Sandburg "indubitably an American in every pulse-beat."
Most of these just didn't work for me. Sometimes, imo, the fragments would have been better in original context. But I do know mostly that's just me - we all should read more Sandburg poetry. Next up for me, though, is a reread of Rootabaga Stories.
I do quite like the below. I think it would make a great song... maybe by the Albertan k.d. lang?
BABY SONG OF THE FOUR WINDS
Let me be your baby, south wind. Rock me, let me rock, rock me now. Rock me low, rock me warm. Let me be your baby.
Comb my hair, west wind. Comb me with a cowlick. Or let me go with a pompadour. Come on, west wind, make me your baby.
North wind, shake me where I'm foolish. Shake me loose and change my ways. Cool my ear with a blue sea wind. I'm your baby, make me behave.
And you, east wind, what can I ask? A fog comfort? A fog to tuck me in? Fix me so and let me sleep. I'm your baby--and I always was.
2.5* Although Sandburg is one of my favorite poets - this collection isn't. His poems for children don't speak to me in the way some of his others do. But when he is wonderful - no one is like him. No one captures the feel of America quite the way Sandburg has. The vastness of the country, the generosity and expansiveness of it's people - these are the qualities Sandburg expresses beautifully. And his nature poems are word pictures(no one paints a sunset like him).
Children of the Wind
On the shores of Lake Michigan high on a wooden pole, in a box, two purple martins had a home and taken away down to Martinique and let loose, they flew home, thousands of miles to be home again. And this has lights of wonder echo and pace and echo again. The birds let out began flying north north-by-west north till they were back home. How their instruments told them of ceiling, temperature, air pressure, how their control-boards gave them reports of fuel, ignition, speeds, is out of the record, out.
Across spaces of sun and cloud, in rain and fog, through air pockets, wind with them, wind against them, stopping for subsistence rations, whirling in gust and spiral, these children of the wind, had a sense of where to go and how, how to go north north-by-west north, till they came to one wooden pole, till they were home again.
From the very accurate intro by Sandburg-- "Dear young folks: Some poems may please you for half a minute & you don't care whether you keep them or not. Other poems you may feel to be priceless & you hug them to your heart & keep them for sure. Here in this book poems of each kind may be found: you do the finding."
Collection of poetry aimed at younger readers, although there was sufficient complex imagery here to keep any of it from really feeling too childish.
The themes are mostly landscapes and nature, with some portraits of rural life across America. Some of the poems collected here are excerpted from longer works, and in some of those cases I felt like I would have preferred the chance to read the full version.
The use of sound and language is powerful, and I enjoyed the place-references.
My first actual book-worth of Sandburg. Some really solid poems in this and a few that I’d call great. Repetitive in topics though and how “good for children” this is I’m really unsure of. Worth the admission for “Bubbles” alone really.
Also, the illustration of the owl looking pissed beyond compare is lovely. The rest are forgettable.
There is some very nice work here. It is certainly old school, but that is not a bad thing. None of these poems really thrilled me and the frequent celebration of nature grows tired, but Sandburg never seems to write a bad poem and that says a lot.