Wednesday 28 September 2016

It's Our World, We Made It.

      We the people made everything in this world from the shoe to the supersonic plane, from the walking stick to the MRI scanner, our skill, our imagination, our labour. Isn't it time we took control and shaped it the way WE want?
WE THE LABOURING MASSES.

We the people have, every brick laid,
have fed the world with sweat and spade,
every instrument played in every band
created by the skill of the craftsman's hand.
We made every truck and every load,
our toil our effort every winding road,
every ship that ever sailed the sea,
our power our imagination made it be.
Cities and towns large and small,
our labouring hands fashioned them all,
every home, every spire,
luxury mansion or humble byre.
No matter what dreams the mind might spawn
without labour's hand, never see the light of dawn,
without labour's strength and labour's skill,
we would be foraging beasts in a jungle still.


Visit ann arky's home at www.radicalglasgow.me.uk

1 comment:

  1. I am the owner of everything - Horacio Guarany

    I am the owner of everything,
    but I never got anything.
    I make light and I make fire,
    I push the wind and the water.

    My hands to the wood
    They make it do wonders.
    I'm the one who tempers the steel
    and who casts the seed.

    I make the chair and the table
    and I have no where to sit.
    Finally, I dont even have
    the right to get tired.

    I do palaces, and my children
    sleep in tin shacks.
    I am hammer, ax and tong,
    clip, spoon and hoe.

    I am the owner of everything
    but I never got anything.
    The day I say enough!,
    flares will burn!
    ____________________________

    Original version:
    Yo soy el dueño de todo - Horacio Guarany

    Yo soy el dueño de todo,
    pero nunca tengo nada.
    Yo hago la luz, hago el fuego,
    hago el viento y hago el agua.

    Mis manos a la madera
    le hacen hacer maravillas.
    Yo soy quien tiempla el acero
    y quien echa la semilla.

    Yo hago la silla y la mesa
    y no tengo ’onde sentarme.
    Total, si ya no me queda
    ni el derecho de cansarme.

    Yo hago el palacio, y mis hijos
    duermen en ranchos de lata.
    Soy martillo, hacha, tenaza,
    pinza, cuchara y azada.

    Yo soy el dueño de todo
    pero nunca tengo nada.
    ¡El día que yo me canse,
    van a arder las llamaradas!

    ReplyDelete