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synthesis
24th March 2003, 23:40
I'm not sure if these have been posted before, but I read these and seriously dropped my jaw. I love them.




Ho Chi Minh
Poems Written While In Prison
Translated by Kenneth Rexroth


A COMRADES PAPER BLANKET

New books, old books,
the leaves all piled together.

A paper blanket
is better than no blanket.

You who sleep like princes,
sheltered from the cold,

Do you know how many men in prison
cannot sleep all night?



AUTUMN NIGHT

Before the gate, a guard
with a rifle on his shoulder.

In the sky, the moon flees
through clouds.

Swarming bed bugs,
like black army tanks in the night.

Squadrons of mosquitoes,
like waves of attacking places.

I think of my homeland.
I dream I can fly far away.

I dream I wonder trapped
in webs of sorrow.

A year has come to an end here.
What crime did I commit?

In tears I write
another prison poem.



CLEAR MORNING

The morning sun
shines over the prison wall,

And drives away the shadows
and miasma of hopelessness.

A life-giving breeze
blows across the earth.

A hundred imprisoned faces
smile once more.


COLD NIGHT

Autumn night.
No mattress. No covers.

No sleep. Body and legs
huddle up and cramp.

The moon shines
on the frost-covered banana leaves.

Beyond my bars
the Great Bear swings on the Pole.



GOOD DAYS COMING

Everything changes, the wheel
of the law turns without pause.

After the rain, good weather.

In the wink of an eye

The universe throws off
its muddy cloths.

For ten thousand miles
the landscape

Spreads out like
a beautiful brocade.

Gentle sunshine.
Light breezes. Smiling flowers,

Hang in the trees, amongst the
sparkling leaves,

All the birds sing at once.

Men and animals rise up reborn.

What could be more natural?

After sorrow comes happiness.



FREE, I WALK ON THE MOUNTAIN
AND ENJOY THE VIEW

Mountains. Clouds.

More mountains. More clouds.

Far below a river gleams,
bright and unspotted.

Alone, with beating heart,
I walk on the Western Range,

And gaze far off towards the South
and think of my comrades.




http://vietnamese-american.org/hochiminh.gif
R.I.P. Nguyen Tat Thanh 1890-1969

Pete
24th March 2003, 23:59
Good Post. I think it deserves to be stickied, and I will add some Mao Tse Tung poetry.

Chingkangshan

Below the hills fly our flags and banners,
Above the hilltops sound our bugles and drums.
The foe encircles us thousnads strong,
Steadfastly we stand our ground.

Already our defence is iron-clad,
Now our wills unite like a fortress
From Huangyangchiech roars the thunger of guns,
Word comes the enemy has fled into the night.

New Year's Day

Ninghua, Chinglie, Kueihua--
What narrow paths, deep woods and slippery moss!
Whither are we bound today?
Straigh to the foot of Wuyi Mountain.
To the mountain, the foot of the mountain,
Red flags stream in the wind in a blaze of glory.

The Long March

The Red Army fears not the trials of the Long March,
Holding light ten thousand crags and torrents.
The Five Ridges wind like gentle ripples
And the majestic Wumeng roll by, gobules of clay.
Warm the steep cliffs lapped by the waters of Golden Sand,
Cold the iron chains spanning the Tatu River.
Minshan's thousnad li of snow joyously crossed,
The three Armies march on, each face glowing.

The People's Liberation Army Captures Nanking

Over Chungshan swept a storm, headlong
Our mighty army, a million strong, has crossed teh Great River.
The city, a tiger crouching, a dragon curling, outshines its anceint glories;
In heroic triumph heaven and earth have been overturned.
With power and to spare we much pursue the tottering foe
And not ape Hsiang Yu the conqueror seeking idle fame.
Were Nature sentient, she too would pass from youth to age,
ABut Man's world is mutable, seas become mulberry fields.

Shaoshan Revisited
I visited Shaoshan on June 25, 1959 after an absence of thirty two years.

Like a dim dream recalled, I curse the ling-fled past--
My native soil two and thirty years gone by.
The red flag roused the serf, halberd in hand,
While the despot's black alons held his whip aloft.
Bitter sacrifice strengthens bold resolve
Which dares to make sun and moon shine in new skies.
Happy, I see wave upon wave of paddy and beans,
And all around heroes home-bound in the evening mist.

Reply to Comrade Kuo Mo-Jo

On this tiny globe
A few flies dash themselves against the wall,
Humming without cease,
Sometimes shrilling,
Sometimes moaning.
Ants on the locust tree assume a great-nation swagger
And mayflies lightly plot to topple the giant tree.
The west wind scatters leaves of Changan,
And the arrows are flying, twanging.

So many deeds cry out to be done,
And always urgently;
The world rolls on,
Time presses.
Ten thousnad years are too long,
Seize the day, seize the hour!

The Four Seas are rising, clouds and waters raging,
The Five Continents are rocking, wind and thunder roaring.
Our force is irresistble,
Away with all pests!

Reascending Chingkangshan

I have long aspired to reach for the clouds
And I again ascend Chingkangashan.
Coming from afar to view our old haunt,
I find new scenes replacing the old.
Everywhere orioles sing, swallows dart,
Streams babble
And the road mounts skyward.
Once Huangyangchiech is passed
No other perilous place calls for a glance.

Wind and thunder are stirring,
Flags and banners are flying
Wherever men live.
Thirty-eight years are fled
With a mere snap of the fingers.
We can clasp the moon in the Ninth Heaven
And seize turtles deep down in the Five Seas:
We'll return amid triumphant song and laughter.
Nothing is hard in this world
If you dare to scale the heights.

The Wisdom of Mao. New York: Kensington Press, 1967. 227-230.

Post poems by other Revolutionaries/Leftists here, but please refrain from commenting if you do not post anything. It would be nice to have a catalouge of these things with out the thread being filled with comments. Please comment in a seperate thread of your own making

synthesis
25th March 2003, 07:44
I can't find the titles of these poems, but they were written by Langston Hughes. Enjoy.



and make it Soviet
‘Put one more ‘S’ in the USA,
we’ll live to see it yet.’



Good-morning, Revolution:
You're the very best friend
I ever had.
We gonna pal around together from now on.

Say, listen, Revolution:
You know, the boss where I used to work,
The guy that gimme the air to cut down expenses,
He wrote a long letter to the papers about you:
Said you was a trouble maker, a alien-enemy,
In other words a son-of-a-*****
He called up the police
And told ’em to watch out for a guy
Named Revolution…




This is one of my favorite poems of all time - perhaps the words I used to indicate that it has peers are extraneous. It is truly beautiful.

Lenin walks around the world.
Frontiers cannot bar him.
Neither barracks nor barricades impede.
Nor does barbed wire scar him.

Lenin walks around the world.
Black, brown, and white receive him.
Language is no barrier.
The strangest tongues believe him.

Lenin walks around the world.
The sun sets like a scar.
Between the darkness and the dawn
There rises a red star.




http://www.planetout.com/images/news/history/langston.gif
R.I.P. Langston Hughes (1902-1967)

Rastafari
26th March 2003, 20:54
http://www.freedomroad.org/
has a weekly poem that is usually really good.
"Lenin" actually got me started on Langston Hughes.