Gigantic toilers' hands the world entire are raking. Their fingers sift and grope the soil -- but grope in vain. O tell me, Party -- tell me -- what is it you are seeking? "I've lost a party card," replied a voice in pain. "Just a little card -- and yet, how great my sorrow! No deeper loss our nation ever befell. It was but yesterday I held it in my fingers. Death dealt her blow -- and from my hands it fell. "You, Proletarians, at every door now hammer! Is he then really gone? Death not be denied? One little party card -- one party card is missing -- And in our fighting ranks -- a huge gap, yawning wide!" I heard my Party's call and felt how it was grieving, And hard as forged and tempered steel my muscles grew. O Party -- can you hear me? 'Tis @3you@1 that I am greeting, 'Tis I -- a toiler from the mills, addressing you! My Soviet country's son, I'm coming to you, Party. O Party, can you hear me? A month or so from now The party card that fell from Lenin's keeping Will by a hundred thousand thousand be replaced, I vow. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CANTICLE OF THE RACE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS RESOLUTION OF DEPENDENCE by GEORGE BARKER TWO OF A TRADE by SAMUEL WILLOUGHBY DUFFIELD LYRICS TO IANTHE (2). LAMENT by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR AT THE CANNON'S MOUTH by HERMAN MELVILLE THE MOUNTAIN ECHO by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH SONNET DEDICATORY by AUGUSTE ANGELLIER |