In our Insecurity, by Pash

paash

If the security of the land
calls for a life without conscience
To imagine a word other than ‘yes’ is an obscenity
And the mind bends low before the lecherous times
then the security of the land is a threat to us

If the security of the land means
that every strike crushed makes that peace stronger
Martyrdom is no more than death at the borders
Art blooms only at the palace window
Intellect only drives the waterwheel that irrigates the ruler’s crops
Labour is little more than a broom at the palace door
then the security of the land is a threat to us

Pash was the pseudonym of Naxalite poet Avtar Singh Sandhu, assassinated in 1988.

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soznatelnost

a present where time stands still

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