Monday, 9 November 2015

A 1989 poem, but apt this week

An Englishman who have lived in Romania (lucky man) since the 1980s sent me this and suggested I publish it here.

I copied the attached poem down in Eroilor cemetery not long after the so-called 'revolution' of 1989.
 After the events of last night the last part of the poem seems particularly apt and you might wish to 'blog' it together with my comments at the bottom..


Azi ne plîngem morţii, pe luptători căzuţi
la datorie pentru ţara şi popor
Ne rugăm la bunul Domnezeu şi îngenunchem pentru cei
omorîţi mişeleşte de barbarii comunişti ucigători.
Plîng copiii, plîng fraţii şi surorile noastre, pentru cei care s-au
jertfit viaţa salvînd omenirea de sclăvia comunistă,
Plîng orfanii, plîng părinţii indoliaţi şi înlăcrimaţi, plîng greviştii
foamei pentru cei loviţi pentru cei răniţi şi ucişi de comunişti.

Plîng foştii deţinuţi politici care au fost în lanţuri
şi cătuşe pe luptătorii eroi ucişi fără cruci
Plîng ţara, plîng poporul, este doliu pentru toţ martirii
Torturaţi şi îngropaţi de criminalii terorişti comunişti.

Dar să ştiţi că sîntem tineri, puternici şi mulţi
porniţi pe aspră dreptate
Ne arde dorul de cei căzuţi de fiecare în parte
Pe mormântul lor stau de veghe zeci de lumânări şi flori.

Constantin Popescu    - artist, 1989


At the time this was written the young had been out on the streets and scores of them had fallen. After a few days they went home and their ‘revolution’ was hijacked by the former nomenclatura, and the parents of the dead were left to mourn by themselves.

For twenty five years everyone here has said “Yes, but what can we do ?”…
but last night once again we saw the young in their droves, strong and fired up by the rough justice they have suffered for so long.

If they could only corral the power that they perhaps don’t realize that they have, stay united and not fragment into dust, they could be a strong force to be reckoned with by any government that comes out of this current vacuum.

With Remembrance Sunday coming up and speaking of the fallen of 1989, I got to Bucharest on 28th December 1989, on the morning that they started to bury the dead at Eroilor cemetery. As a small token to all those young people I wrote down a small poem and had it published in Libertatea:-

"Here dead we lie because we did not choose

To live and shame the land from which we sprung 

Life to be sure is nothing much to lose, 

But young men think it is........and we were young."

Those lines are from one of A.E. Housman's two best poems.

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