by Brett Rutherford
Translated and adapted from Victor Hugo, l’Annee Terrible, “February 1871”
When we are victorious, well, let’s see.
Until then, let us show the disdain
in a degree that befits our pain.
Defeat is graced best by the bitterly-lowered eye.
Free, one can be an apostle.
A slave, one must become a prophet.
We are garroted! No more “sister nations” talk!
And I predict the abyss for our invaders.
We have been put on a chain.
Hatred must be our dog-house.
Pride alone requires this.
Love the Germans? Oh, that will come,
on the day when by right of victory
we will know the privilege of love.
The devastated never get to make
a declaration of peace. The heart seeks
revenge’s satisfaction first.
Let’s wait our turn to stand in the way.
Just when and how should we extend our hand
to them? Only downward, when they are at our feet.
As long as France cries, I can only bleed.
So, no more talk of concord at this time.
To stammer “fraternité” too soon
and bitterly with half a heart,
makes the enemy shrug their shoulders.
If in some tomorrow, our grudges are shed,
that is tomorrow’s business, and not today’s.
We who have been slapped are not cowards.
Published in Le Rappel, May 22, 1871.
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