“Everywhere Burning Waters Rise”
Everywhere,
on tall and smokless stackpipes,
on the empty silos of deserted farms,
on the rusty blade of the logger’s axe,
on the sooty girders of unfinished skyscrapers,
the cold dense clammy fog
of discontent is settling. . . .
Everywhere,
on tenemented mountains of hunger,
in ghetto swamps of suffering,
in breadlined forests of despair,
on peonized plains of hopelessness
the red moisture of revolt
is condensing on the cold stones of human need. . . .
Everywhere,
men are gathering in groups talking, talking, tiny red pools
are forming;
hundreds are joining protest parades marching, marching,
small red rills are trickling;
thousands are surrounding food-stores storming, storming,
rising red rivers are flowing
till on the lowlands of starvation meeting
and swelling to a roaring torrential tide
and becoming strangely transformed into waters of fire
and blazing their way to the foaming sea of revolution. . . .
Sweep on, O red stream of molten anger!
Surge and seethe like liquid lava
into every nook and cranny of this greed-reared temple
and blister the rottening walls with your hot cleansing breath!
Lick and lap with your tongues of flame
at its golden pillars of oppressive privilege,
lick and lap until they melt,
melt from the fury of your heat!
Shower and sprinkle the foul air with sparks of white hate
and sterilize this hellishly infected floor
until the last germ of decadence is dead!
Eat with your fiery teeth
at the beams and rafters of exploitation,
eat, eat until they crumble to powdered black ashes!
Burn and burn and burn quickly!
Burn,
For a chafing multitude is waiting,
is waiting to build on the cleared and conquered grounds!
Richard Wright in Left Front May-June 1934
Everywhere,
on tall and smokless stackpipes,
on the empty silos of deserted farms,
on the rusty blade of the logger’s axe,
on the sooty girders of unfinished skyscrapers,
the cold dense clammy fog
of discontent is settling. . . .
Everywhere,
on tenemented mountains of hunger,
in ghetto swamps of suffering,
in breadlined forests of despair,
on peonized plains of hopelessness
the red moisture of revolt
is condensing on the cold stones of human need. . . .
Everywhere,
men are gathering in groups talking, talking, tiny red pools
are forming;
hundreds are joining protest parades marching, marching,
small red rills are trickling;
thousands are surrounding food-stores storming, storming,
rising red rivers are flowing
till on the lowlands of starvation meeting
and swelling to a roaring torrential tide
and becoming strangely transformed into waters of fire
and blazing their way to the foaming sea of revolution. . . .
Sweep on, O red stream of molten anger!
Surge and seethe like liquid lava
into every nook and cranny of this greed-reared temple
and blister the rottening walls with your hot cleansing breath!
Lick and lap with your tongues of flame
at its golden pillars of oppressive privilege,
lick and lap until they melt,
melt from the fury of your heat!
Shower and sprinkle the foul air with sparks of white hate
and sterilize this hellishly infected floor
until the last germ of decadence is dead!
Eat with your fiery teeth
at the beams and rafters of exploitation,
eat, eat until they crumble to powdered black ashes!
Burn and burn and burn quickly!
Burn,
For a chafing multitude is waiting,
is waiting to build on the cleared and conquered grounds!
Richard Wright in Left Front May-June 1934