THE POET TO HER YOUNG COMRADES 8

We might well lose. Our enemies are smart.
They have the guns and money. And the power.
Do not assume that this is not their hour
to gloat, stamp on each face and break each heart

that cares and weeping sees the world decay
music and kindness. They won’t understand
why victory seems to crumble in their hand.
We’ll die in pain. And quite soon so will they,

Our only consolation that we told them so
Cold comfort of correct analysis
inadeqately argued. Synthesis
Perhaps the last sad true thing that they’ll know.

Death’s dialectic. Ashes of our brains
Mingle with theirs. Hot winds sweep empty plains.

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About rozkaveney

Middleaged, trans, novelist, poet, activist
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2 Responses to THE POET TO HER YOUNG COMRADES 8

  1. wild_irises says:

    I got this (uncredited) quotation out of Salman Rushdie’s Joseph Anton and it is staying with me …

    “A journalist said to Gunter Grass, ‘The flame of the Enlightenment is dying.’
    ‘But,’ said Grass, ‘there is no other source of light.”

  2. cmcmck says:

    Given what’s going no at the moment with regard to the things you and I have spent years fighting for, this sounds all too familiar. :o(

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