Quote:
Originally Posted by John Whitworth
How about this then?
The Noble Thing
...think fredome mair to prys
Than all the gold in warld that is.
We saw the invaders' fires in the valley.
Their impious revels borne upon the breezes
Stank in our nostrils like their rotting cheeses.
At last we had no time to shilly-shally.
Their devils' fires were burning in the valley.
We were the architects of our calamity.
We had felt the iron fingers on our collars
And paid a strong sufficiency of dollars
To co-exist in spurious amity
As willing architects of our calamity.
They are come to desecrate our ancient places,
They are come to turn free people into chattels,
Too numerous to defeat in open battles,
This gallimaufray of gross, alien faces
That spit upon our ancient, holy places.
They will not see us watching from the shadows.
They will not see us crouched above the treeline.
Our counter-moves are feral, secret, feline.
To trap the rats that swarm upon our meadows,
And, one-by-one, to slay them in the shadows,
To drag them from the feasting and the laughter,
Rip out their throats and leave them staring, tearing
At fickle life that flits away uncaring
Back to the doleful dark before and after,
Far from the fires, the feasting and the laughter.
We thought we were too feeble to resist them.
They came with promises and civil speeches.
Like wolves they raven and they suck like leeches,
Like viruses they paralyse the system.
We thought we were too feeble to resist them
We were the architects of our calamity.
We sold our children and our children's children,
And grovelled in the temples of the heathen,
Prostrate in our pusillanimity,
The willing architects of our calamity.
If we must die then let it be for Freedom,
With all the benison of blood can give us,
The rolling wheatfields and the tumbling rivers,
The silver sands about our golden kingdom.
For Freedom. Die for Freedom. Die for Freedom..
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A piece that carries conviction, John. I like the style. Of course it is partisan. I reckon such a historic view may sit well with the judges if they are indeed determinedly 'pro' (Yes) - even if not to the taste of
total possible readership!
A few quibbles (my attention to these details a mark of esteem!):
1. The title and prefatory quotation I have traced without difficulty to poem 'The Brus' (The Bruce) written around AD 1375 by John Barbour, Archdeacon of Aberdeen. Might a footnote to accompany the poem, giving that attribution, assist some of its destined eventual readership? Or maybe these words are known widely enough; I'm not sure.
2. Spelling - gallimaufry (not 'gallimaufray' - unless that was a coining of yours so as to incorporate 'fray', as in combat; affray?)
Incidentally, which I found of interest: Collins Concise defines it as 'a jumble; hotchpotch. [C16: < F
gallimaufrée ragout, hash, <?] Something then not unlike haggis?!
3. 'Like viruses they paralyse the system.' - To me 'viruses' is an anachronism in this piece. Perhaps 'Like pestilence they paralyse the system.' ? But also, do viruses (or pestilence) generally paralyse? Some cause fever and trembling: arguably, a heightened rather than suppressed activity of the [bodily] system! So maybe...
'Like pestilence they permeate the system.' ...
'Like pestilence, that preys upon the system.' ...
'Like pestilence imperilling each citizen.'
?
[and in that last, imperilling scansion too?]
4. 'With all the benison of blood can give us,' - The 'of' confused me at first. I would more easily have read 'With all the benison which blood can give us,'. Then I understood better (I think) your intent: 'With all [that=which]' (the word being implicit, elided) 'the benison of blood can give us,'.
But... how readily is blood shed seen as a benison? A blessing?
Of course your intent may be a dark sarcasm here.
Still, I wonder whether 'With all that benison which blood can give us,' or 'With all of benison [which (implicit, elided)] this blood can give us,' - or some other variant - may have merit for clarity and impact.
Or maybe there is no problem with it 'as is', and I make something of nothing!
If so, please excuse my gallimaufry of words and accept my benison!