Comrade Samuel
25th December 2012, 04:10
I recall a thread from last year with the same name, enjoy this fantastic poem I found on reddit.
Twas the night before Christmas and all through the land,
The workers were stirring - the time was at hand!
The councils were meeting, more attended than ever;
The masses were ready -uprise now or never.
The people were angry and prepared to fight,
Cries of "Revolution!" rang into the night.
And all of my comrades from Council 19,
Both Party and movement and all inbetween,
Took to the streets and rose up in a clatter,
Bourgeois illusions were thoroughly shatterred.
We marched down Bay Street with our fists in the air,
Then a cadre behind me set off a flare.
We knew by the light that it was time to go,
So we donned our face masks, just partly for show.
We shouldered our weapons- some rifles, some sticks;
Disorganised comrades began throwing bricks.
"The state's not a window"; this lesson we knew,
Pigs fell back ahead, we advanced for round two.
I thought back to our meeting some hours before,
Where a communist comrade had taken the floor.
"To Marx! To Hoxha! To Mao and to Lenin!
To Engels! To Luxemburg! To Che and to Stalin!"
we cheered all their names and pledged to create,
A communist world by smashing the state.
But now in the moment the pig lines had reformed,
Bolstered by army; we'd been misinformed!
I thought that the soldiers had all deserted,
As into their ranks, comrades were inserted.
But before me I saw, as clear as the day,
Some soldiers had stayed and had entered the fray.
I drew my last breath, I thought we were done.
Political power; it grows from a gun.
Without an army the people have nothing;
Could it have been that the Party was bluffing?
But to my delight, as more shots rang out,
It was only the pigs who started to shout.
As the confusion and piggies began to die down,
From the army ahead we could hear a sound.
Songs as red as the blood that the workers had shed,
Were carried up-street and entered our heads.
The song they were singing we knew right away,
The Internationale had carried the day.
And Council 19, we advanced again,
The soldiers, we found, composed Council 10.
The battle was won, the war just beginning.
Against the state and the bosses we clearly were winning.
Main Street had been cleared, our objective was won,
In the distance I saw a rising red sun.
But if this night sounds too good to be true,
I'll pause and I'll say: It could happen to you!
Nothing written above should seem like fiction,
If anything it should be viewed as prediction
The masses of workers are angry and waiting,
The people just need some more agitating.
And so I propose: get off your tush,
As Lenin reminds us, history's worth a push!
Twas the night before Christmas and all through the land,
The workers were stirring - the time was at hand!
The councils were meeting, more attended than ever;
The masses were ready -uprise now or never.
The people were angry and prepared to fight,
Cries of "Revolution!" rang into the night.
And all of my comrades from Council 19,
Both Party and movement and all inbetween,
Took to the streets and rose up in a clatter,
Bourgeois illusions were thoroughly shatterred.
We marched down Bay Street with our fists in the air,
Then a cadre behind me set off a flare.
We knew by the light that it was time to go,
So we donned our face masks, just partly for show.
We shouldered our weapons- some rifles, some sticks;
Disorganised comrades began throwing bricks.
"The state's not a window"; this lesson we knew,
Pigs fell back ahead, we advanced for round two.
I thought back to our meeting some hours before,
Where a communist comrade had taken the floor.
"To Marx! To Hoxha! To Mao and to Lenin!
To Engels! To Luxemburg! To Che and to Stalin!"
we cheered all their names and pledged to create,
A communist world by smashing the state.
But now in the moment the pig lines had reformed,
Bolstered by army; we'd been misinformed!
I thought that the soldiers had all deserted,
As into their ranks, comrades were inserted.
But before me I saw, as clear as the day,
Some soldiers had stayed and had entered the fray.
I drew my last breath, I thought we were done.
Political power; it grows from a gun.
Without an army the people have nothing;
Could it have been that the Party was bluffing?
But to my delight, as more shots rang out,
It was only the pigs who started to shout.
As the confusion and piggies began to die down,
From the army ahead we could hear a sound.
Songs as red as the blood that the workers had shed,
Were carried up-street and entered our heads.
The song they were singing we knew right away,
The Internationale had carried the day.
And Council 19, we advanced again,
The soldiers, we found, composed Council 10.
The battle was won, the war just beginning.
Against the state and the bosses we clearly were winning.
Main Street had been cleared, our objective was won,
In the distance I saw a rising red sun.
But if this night sounds too good to be true,
I'll pause and I'll say: It could happen to you!
Nothing written above should seem like fiction,
If anything it should be viewed as prediction
The masses of workers are angry and waiting,
The people just need some more agitating.
And so I propose: get off your tush,
As Lenin reminds us, history's worth a push!