The Ruling Class Will Also Crumble
(Poem)
demon! son of a bitch!
in la tierra pobreza
will also crumble
the empire of the demigod ruling class
in like graveyard ricefield and hacienda
in like coffin factory and shop
in like morgue church and chapel
demon! son of a bitch!
hail mary, mother of god…
in every gear’s turn
in every bolt’s twirl
in every hammered nail
in every sawn lumber
in every fitted hinge
in every poured cement
in every erected edifice
demon! son of a bitch!
i hear the grating of teeth
the hissing of breath
and the howling of gut
being crushed is my brain
by the ode of anguish and grief.
god the father
god the son
goddess the holy spirit
in every bite of the plow
into the soil to make a furrow
in every slash of the machete
through the jumbled grassland
and vast sugarcane field
in every ground plowed
demon! son of a bitch!
for heaven’s sake…
i see the springing sweat
on a laborer’s forehead
cascading to his temple
crawling over his breast
down to his abdomen
treading along the spine
and slacking on the tailbone
yes, god of abraham
holy water it will be
to bless the indio’s scrotum and groin
yes, my revolting heart is tormented
by the unceasing thrust
and assault of injustices!
demon! son of a bitch!
the ruling class will also crumble
the fortress of servitude
will be finally torn down
in vast haciendas
the landlords will grovel
in factories and companies
the capitalists will all wail
the talahib grass will soon bear flowers
on mountain slopes and plateus
on swiddens and savannas in every valley
even if repeatedly burnt to ashes
it will live like a phoenix
will be transformed again and again
in the rustle of spasming westerly wind
again and again will dance
the immaculate flowers
the slaves will not remain blind
upon the pealing of the surging dawn
in la tierra pobreza
the ruling class will be deafened
by the resounding shrill of trumpets
and the clanking of shattered chains!
(modified English version by EMMANUEL V. DUMLAO of Magwawakas Din Ang Naghaharing-Uri)
