The world is finite, resources are scarce,
Things are bad and will be worse.
Coal is burned and gas exploded,
Forests cut and soils eroded.
Wells are dry and air’s polluted,
Dust is blowing, trees uprooted,
Oil is going, ores depleted,
Drains receive what is excreted.
Land is sinking, seas are rising,
Man is far too enterprising,
Fire will rage with Man to fan it,
Soon we’ll have a plundered planet.
People breed like fertile rabbits,
People have disgusting habits.
Conservationist’s Lament By Kenneth Boulding
(In: Man’s Role in Changing the Face of the Earth, 1956 University of Chicago Press)
1956 Conservation Poem
I love the sonnet form. Twelve lines telling a story, and then a punchy couplet.
1956
Thanks for this, Ken sure hit his mark, predictions are even more grave, what will there be left to save?