Chicago Poems

Jag fick låna Chicago Poems av Carl Sandburg av min syster när jag varit och hälsat på i familjehemmet denna helg. Den verkar fantastisk:

I know a Jew fish crier down on Maxwell Street with a
voice like a north wind blowing over corn stubble
in January.
He dangles herring before prospective customers evincing
a joy identical with that of Pavlova dancing.
His face is that of a man terribly glad to be selling fish,
terribly glad that God made fish, and customers to
whom he man call his wares, from a pushcart.