If we must die, let it not be like hogs
Hunted and penned in an inglorious spot,
While round us bark the mad and hungry dogs,
Making their mock at our accursed lot.
If we must die, O let us nobly die
So that our precious blood may not be shed
In vain; then even the monsters we defy
Shall be constrained to honor us though dead!
O kinsmen! We must meet the common foe!
Though far outnumbered let us show us brave,
And for their thousand blows deal one death blow!
What though before us lies the open grave?
Like men we’ll face the murderous, cowardly pack,
Pressed to the wall, dying, but fighting back!
Source: Claude McKay, “If We Must Die,” in Harlem Shadows: The Poems of Claude McKay (New York: Harcourt, Brace and Co., 1922).
I sometimes think of this poem, not only in the context of the revolutionary pen, but also in the context of hearts, asking one heart to surrender is a prelude to the grave, but if we must die, let it be with honour. I have lived I have loved I have lost, but I seek on for what is the heart but a muscle?! Muscles heal right, they heal stronger, they heal bigger. It is a muscle, let it heal. If we must die... we shall die, the heart is faithful to love as is the flesh faithful to die, we shall die. Of this moment I love none, yet I the heart is faithful to love again, as the flesh shall die one fine day. Am I talking sense?! Yes I am, no I am not, all we ever lived for was to die, from the beginning of time, we live to die, and so I will once again taste of the dust, today or someother day I dont know, or maybe the feelings I have today will wither away and I will be back in full health, but the heart is faithful to love as is the sword to kill, yet often the sword wounds, and wounds heal. Battles come and go, scars remain eternal, lovers come and go, but heartaches remain eternal, yet neither scars of the heart nor scars of the flesh deny a veteran warrior another battle, only the final parting of the heart and life shall, so I guess both warriors and lovers are fools alike.
A tangle of truth and splendid, oh Warrior, Lover, Poet, Fool, wounds heal, ah, what? Wounds heal!
ReplyDeleteThank you!