The Paris Commune
From the French of Andr? Fr?naud
France was born there and it is from there she sings
Of Joan of Ark and Varlin both.
We must dig deep, o motherland,
Beneath those heavy cobbles.
Country of the Commune, so dear to me,
My very own which make my blood burn
And that same blood will one day flow again
Between those very stones.
It is there when I see people dance
Beneath the veined clouds under the May sun
Especially when the notes of the accordion
Pied-piped them away from the urgencies of the day.
It is the people’s special gift beneath the waving banner
To have such gentle hearts. Mine beats still
At the kindness of strangers.
After the Night of the Long Knives
That same heart still beats
At the goodwill of those souls buried
Beneath stones laughing and weeping even now.
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