The Institute for Social Justice in solidarity with the Greek People

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“There are no boundaries in this struggle to the death. We cannot be indifferent to what happens anywhere in the world, for a victory by any country over imperialism is our victory; just as any country’s defeat is a defeat for all of us.” EG

Now, and I muse for why and never find the reason,
 I pace the earth, and drink the air, and feel the sun.
Be still, be still, my soul; it is but for a season:
 Let us endure an hour and see injustice done

A Shropshire Lad Housman

There were two brothers: one of them in the service of the sultan and the other gaining his livelihood by the effort of his arm. The wealthy man once asked his destitute brother why he did not serve the sultan in order to be delivered from the hardship of labouring. He replied: “Why labourest thou not to be delivered from the baseness of service because philosophers have said that it is better to eat barley bread and to sit than to gird oneself with a golden belt and to stand in service?”

To leaven mortar of quicklime with the hand

Is better than to hold them on the breast before the amir.

My precious life was spent in considering

What I am to eat in summer and wear in winter.

O ignoble belly, be satisfied with one bread

Rather than to bend the back in service.

Ch 01 Manner Of Kings Story 36 Saadi Shirazi (1210-1291)

Old pirates, yes, they rob I,

Sold I to the merchant ships,

Minutes after they took I

From the bottomless pit.

But my hand was made strong

By the ‘and of the Almighty.

We forward in this generation

Triumphantly.

Won’t you help to sing

These songs of freedom?

‘Cause all I ever have,

Redemption songs,

Redemption songs.

Emancipate yourself from mental slavery,

None but ourselves can free our minds.

Have no fear for atomic energy,

‘Cause none of them can stop the time.

How long shall they kill our prophets,

While we stand aside and look?

Some say it’s just a part of it,

We’ve got to fulfill de book.

Won’t you help to sing

These songs of freedom?

‘Cause all I ever have,

Redemption songs,

Redemption songs,

Redemption songs.

Emancipate yourself from mental slavery,

None but ourselves can free our mind.

Have no fear for atomic energy,

‘Cause none of them can stop the time.

How long shall they kill our prophets,

While we stand aside and look?

Some say it’s just a part of it,

We’ve got to fulfill the book.

Won’t you help to sing,

These songs of freedom?

‘Cause all I ever had,

Redemption songs.

All I ever had,

Redemption songs

These songs of freedom

Songs of freedom

Redemption Song Marley

Courage yet, my brother or my sister!

Keep on—Liberty is to be subserv’d whatever occurs;

That is nothing that is quell’d by one or two failures, or any number of failures,

Or by the indifference or ingratitude of the people, or by any unfaithfulness,

Or the show of the tushes of power, soldiers, cannon, penal statutes.

What we believe in waits latent forever through all the continents,

Invites no one, promises nothing, sits in calmness and light, is positive and composed, knows no discouragement,

Waiting patiently, waiting its time.

(Not songs of loyalty alone are these,

But songs of insurrection also,

For I am the sworn poet of every dauntless rebel the world over,

And he going with me leaves peace and routine behind him,

And stakes his life to be lost at any moment.)

The battle rages with many a loud alarm and frequent advance and retreat,

The infidel triumphs, or supposes he triumphs,

The prison, scaffold, garroté, handcuffs, iron necklace and lead-balls do their work,

The named and unnamed heroes pass to other spheres,

The great speakers and writers are exiled, they lie sick in distant lands,

The cause is asleep, the strongest throats are choked with their own blood,

The young men droop their eyelashes toward the ground when they meet;

But for all this Liberty has not gone out of the place, nor the infidel enter’d into full possession.

When liberty goes out of a place it is not the first to go, nor the second or third to go,

It waits for all the rest to go, it is the last.

When there are no more memories of heroes and martyrs,

And when all life and all the souls of men and women are discharged from any part of the earth,

Then only shall liberty or the idea of liberty be discharged from that part of the earth,

And the infidel come into full possession.

Then courage European revolter, revoltress!

For till all ceases neither must you cease.

I do not know what you are for, (I do not know what I am for myself, nor what any thing is for,)

But I will search carefully for it even in being foil’d,

In defeat, poverty, misconception, imprisonment—for they too are great.

Did we think victory great?

So it is—but now it seems to me, when it cannot be help’d, that defeat is great,

And that death and dismay are great.

Fringe of Leaves Whitman

Ballad of the Fallen (found on the body of a student who was killed when the US backed National Guard of El Salvador massacred a sit-in at the university in San Salvador) – first stanza of the poem, followed by a youtube recording of Charlie Haden and Carla Bley’s group playing inspired by the poem…

Don’t ask me who I am

Or if you knew me

The dreams that I had

Will grow even though I’m no longer here.

I’m not alive, but my life continues

in that which goes dreaming.

Others who continue the fight

Will grow new roses

In the name of all these things

You’ll find my name.

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5CAmIZfE_Us

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