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[ After The Stonebreakers (1849) by Gustave Courbet ] I The old man kneels and with each Stroke of the hammer splits the stones Which the young man carries away in baskets: A livelihood as hazardous as it was tiresome. But now we have machines to do this: Sculpt and shape the stones to grace Our houses and the walls around them. II The surgical strike from the air leaves Stones scattered across the street And where once someone’s home stood Is now just a mound of rubble. And among those stones are The broken bones of those Who happened to be In this place at that time. |