REMEMBER RUBEN
Sons of peasants
Insolent and craving
For Grandeur, nay for
Moneys
Trampling to death,
Proud, oh! Too proud
To see death beside
Just waiting the
Hour.
Sons of
Officers and officials
Pale, empty, worldly
Certificates at shaky hand
Oubliettes, wine and whores
They prefer to our flags
And behind they lag, rank
Commandoes
Devouring and
Devoured
Forgetting the killing
Diseases
Aids! ...
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