[lbo-talk] Johnny CAsh & Elizabeth Barret Browning Sum it Up

Carrol Cox cbcox at ilstu.edu
Tue Nov 1 06:37:14 PDT 2011


San Quentin you've living hell to me You've called at me since 1963 I've seen them come and goa nd I've seen them die And long ago I stopped asking why

San Quentin I hate every inch of you You've cut me and you've scarred me through and through And I'll walk out a wiser, weaker man Mr. Congressman, why cant you understand?

San Quentin what good do you think you do? Do you think I'll be different when you're through? You bend my heart & mind and you warp my soul Your stone walls turn my blood a little cold

San Quentin may you rot and burn in hell May your walls fall and may I live to tell May all the world forget you ever stood And the whole world will regret you did no good

San Quentin you've been living hell to me.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning has a rather interesting take on patriotism (in respect to British patriotism, but organized around a comment on America). It is called

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

A Curse for a Nation.

PROLOGUE

I heard an angel speak last night,

And he said, "Write!-- Write a nation's curse for me, And send it over the Western Sea."

I faltered, taking up the word:

"Not so, my lord! If curses must be, choose another To send thy curse against my brother

"For I am bound by gratitude,

By love and blood, To brothers of mine across the sea, Who stretch out kindly hands to me."

"Therefore," the voice said, "shalt thou write

My curse tonight.
>From the summits of love a curse is driven,
As lightning from the tops of heaven."

"No so," I answered, "Evermore

My heart is sore For my own land's sins: for little feet Of children bleeding in the street:

"For parked-up honors that gainsay

The right of way: For almsgiving through a door that is, Not open enough for two friends to kiss:

"For love of freedom which abates

Beyond the Straits: For patriot virtue starved to vice on Self-praise, self-interest, and suspicion:

"For an oligarchic parliament,

And bribes well-meant. What curse another land assign, When heavy-souled for the sins of mine?"

"Therefore," the voice said, shalt thou write

My curse tonight. Because thou hast strength to see and hate A foul thing done *within* thy gate."

"Not so," I answered yet again,

"To curse choose men. For I, a woman, have only known How the heart melts, and the tears run down."

"Therefore," the voice said," shalt thou write

My curse tonight. Some women weep and curse, I say, (And no one marvels) night and day.

"And thou shalt take their part tonight,

Weep and write. A curse from the depths of womanhood Is very salt, and bitter, and good."

So thus I wrote, and mourned indeed,

What all may read. And thus as was enjoined on me, I send it over the Western Sea.

THE CURSE

I

Because ye have broken your own chain

With the strain Of brave men climbing a nation's height, Yet thence bear down with brand and thong On souls of others -- for this wrong

This is the curse. Write.

Because yourselves are standing straight

In the state Of Freedom's foremost acolyte, Yet keep calm footing all the time On writhing bond-slaves, for this crime

This is the curse. Write.

Because ye prosper in God's name,

What a claim To honor in the old world's sight, Yet do the fiend's work perfectly In strangling martyrs, -- for this lie

This is the curse. Write.

II Ye shall watch while kings conspire Round the people's smouldering fire,

And, warm for your part, Shall never dare -- O shame! To utter the thought into flame

Which burns at your heart.

This is the curse. Write.

Ye shall watch while nations strive With the bloodhounds, die or survive,

Drop faint from their jaws, Or throttle them backward to death: And only under your breath

Shall favor the cause.

This is the curse. Write.

Ye shall watch while strong men draw The nets of feudal law

To strangle the weak: And, counting the sin for for a sin, Your soul will be sadder within

Than the word he shall speak.

This is the curse. Write.

When good men are praying erect That Christ may avenge his elect,

And deliver the earth, The prayer in your ears, said low, Shall sound like the trump of a foe

That's driving you forth.

This is the curse. Write.

When wise men give you their praise, They shall pause in the heat of the phrase,

As if carried too far. When ye boast your own charters kept true, Ye shall blush; for the thing which ye do.

Derides what ye are.

This is the curse. Write.

When fools cast taunts at your gate, Your scorn ye shall somewhat abate

As ye look o'er the wall: For your conscience, tradition, and name Explode with a deadlier blame

Then the worst of them all.

This is the curse. Write.

Go, wherever ill deeds shall be done, Go, plant your flag in the sun

Besider the ill-doers! And recoil from clenching the curse Of God's witnessing Universe

With a curse of yours.

This is the curse. Write.



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