And I will fight as long as infants suckle
In vain at parched breasts devoid of milk;
As long as my poor sisters sell their bodies
For bread and rags, while parasites wear silk.
As long as slave and master, thief and pauper
Remain such terms as may to man apply,
So long, I say, my lyre shall be a weapon,
My song shall be the rebel’s battle cry.
NOEL
Tormented Galilean who art Lord