There Will Come Soft Rains
There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,
And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;
And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;
And frogs in the pools singing at night,
And wild plum-trees in tremulous white;
And wild plum-trees in tremulous white;
Robins will wear their feathery fire
Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;
Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;
And not one will know of the war, not one
Will care at last when it is done.
Will care at last when it is done.
Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree
If mankind perished utterly;
If mankind perished utterly;
And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn,
Would scarcely know that we were gone.
Would scarcely know that we were gone.
I posted this poem on another blog as a follow-up to a post on the disappearance of humans from the Earth. “There Will Come Soft Rains,” is a 1918 poem by Sara Teasdale. The poem imagines nature reclaiming Earth after a war that has led to human extinction. It is interesting that she wrote this poem 25 years before the invention of nuclear weapons.
Ray Bradbury wrote a story in 1950 that used Teasdale’s title as its title. The story shows us a world in which the human race has been destroyed by a nuclear war. Bradbury was writing during the “Cold War” era when the devastating effects of nuclear force was frequently in the news.
from Poets Online blog https://ift.tt/2CgrV8U
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