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Poem	My young son asks me: Must I learn mathematics? What is the use, I feel like saying. That two pieces Of bread are more than one's about all you'll end up with. My young son asks me: Must I learn French? What is the use, I feel like saying. This State's collapsing. And if you just rub your belly with your hand and Groan, you'll be understood with little trouble. My young son asks me: Must I learn history? What is the use, I feel like saying. Learn to stick Your head in the earth, and maybe you'll still survive. Yes, learn mathematics, I tell him. Learn your French, learn your history!
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