newritings

August 23, 2007

In our land, bullets are beginning to flower

Filed under: poetry — newritings @ 12:00 pm

Come, brother, and tell me your life
come, show me the marks of revolt
which the enemy left on your body

 

Come, say to me ‘Here
my hands have been crushed
because they defended
The land which they own’

 

‘Here my body was tortured
because it refused to bend
to invaders’

 

‘Here my mouth was wounded
Because it dared to sing
My people’s freedom’

 

Come brother and tell me your life,
come relate me the dreams of revolt
which you and your fathers and forefathers
dreamed
in silence
through shadowless nights made for love

 

Come tell me these dreams become
war,
the birth of heroes,
land reconquered,
mothers who, fearless,
send their sons to fight.

 

Come, tell me all this, my brother.
And later I will forge simple words
which even the children can understand
words which will enter every house
like the wind
and fall like red hot embers
on our people’s souls.

 

In our land
Bullets are beginning to flower.

 

Poem by Jorge Rebelo

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1 Comment »

  1. […] was in the air, and this poem and other poems were the rhythms of resistance, the tempo and melody of our struggle and of our […]

    Pingback by The Story of a Poem « newritings — August 30, 2007 @ 11:14 am | Reply


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