THE PARIS COMMUNE Poem by Barry Tebb

From the French of Andrй Frйnaud



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.