Yep! The Maroon Soldier It’s the life of a Jeremi boy the legend of an old soldier entwined with the history of all Maroons of Haiti where are you going little bird I am going to Font Augustin where are you going little bird I’m spinning like a peg-top all around Jeremi’s streets the children are playing in Font Augustin escaping chicks when you catch a girl all your body quivers how marvelous hopscotch is in Font Augustine you open your arms like a wing your dress opening in the sky you leg becoming the light. we’re playing hide-and-seek in Font Augustin we hide together our hearts are beating together I wanna give you a kiss escaping chicks in Font Augustin pass-her-the-hidden-charm, yes sire and hold-it-for-me-too, yes sire I am reminiscing of my youth miracle or magic the sea burst open to let Moses go science fiction or technology all doors can open without a key in the heart of the night a horse well accoutered in the street galloping without a horseman in the middle of the crossroad a pig with seven candles lighted on its head’s top asks you where you’re going in the heart of the night if you see a cute gal you must not walk with her she will sleep in the cemetery in the middle of the crossroad if you hear someone cry it’s master you know whom who’s beating the zombie Alis crosses through the mirror to reach the land of wonders Jeni enters into a bottle all dead walks in the dark in the mango’s fountain there’s no mango or fountain but in the time long past there was water behind Doctor Oden’s house there are mountains covered with trees behind Doctor Oden’s house the mountains stretch until the plain. the children have assembled to play Maroon-soldier the children have assembled to divide brave from coward we run through the woods we run through the mountains I am a slave who broke the chains I am a maroon slave I don’t know if I am brave I don’t know if I am a coward I know only one thing I don’t wanna be enchained I’m running I’m running I bump into Cacique Henry the first maroon of Haiti before that I met with Caonabo whom the colons had killed I met with Anacaona whom Ovando had killed a whole race that the Spaniards had killed that the Portuguese had killed that the French had killed a whole race that the white colons had killed a whole race that the capitalist had killed after that I met Mackandal and Boukman Oje and Chavannes whom the French colons had killed I met with Toussaint whom Bonaparte had killed a whole race the whites had captured as wild beasts a whole race they had uprooted as a wild plant a whole race they put behind a cage a whole race they held under chains of slavery. Soon as the Whites killed off the Arawacks Soon as the Whites killed off the Africans The Negroes started killing Negroes I met Toussaint’s nephew Moïse whom Toussaint himself had killed I met Charles and Sanite Belair whom Dessalines had killed I met Dessalines whom Christophe and Pétion had killed I met Charlemagne Péralte whom Conzé and the Yankees had killed I met Benoît Batraville whom American and Haitian squad had killed I met Alexis and Brisson whom Duvalier and the Americans had killed Whites kill Blacks Whites kill Whites Blacks kill Whites Blacks kill Blacks in every race there’s class struggle in every society there’s exploiters and exploited skin colors don’t matter what matters is the struggle of slaves against masters burning houses cutting heads it’s the struggle of exploited of all colors against all exploiters on earth I’m running I’m running into Haiti’s history and into the history of all countries in the time long past there was a country that was called Haiti a long long past time death has taken us in retail before it takes us at wholesale death is sucking us before it swallows us what a sorrow upon us nothing has endured for us we’re eating misery misery is eating us we’re eating shame shame is eating us we’re eating the whip the whip is eating us we’re eating death death is eating us what a sorrow upon us nothing is left for us a whole people has become children children they are nursing to sleep to keep them from being eaten by crabs a whole people has become children a whole people has become zombies zombies they put to work for a soulless clique’s sake a whole people has become zombies a whole people has become boat-people running from the river’s flow ending up at high seas a whole people has become boat-people a whole people has become prisoners trading Haiti’s dungeons for Miami’s concentration camp a whole people has become prisoners But liberty will not die if you’re ready to die for it Karl Marx is talking with Toussaint Louverture Lenin is chatting with Dessalines Soon we become masters of our destiny we shall have no more masters Haiti will not die if we’re ready to die for it God will not save us there’s no savior to save us what which will save us is weapon and revolution Queen Sun has risen up Comrade General Sun has stood up liberty will not die if we’re ready to die for it. Paul Laraque Sòlda mawon!
Posted on: Wed, 14 Jan 2015 13:02:13 +0000
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