Swords and Plowshares/The God of War
The God of War.png){kind=small}
From the French of Théodore Jean
SO be it! Our globe is but a hell
Of torments, crimes, and sins abhorred,
Where Force by dint of fire and sword
Subdues his victims all too well. . . .
Of torments, crimes, and sins abhorred,
Where Force by dint of fire and sword
Subdues his victims all too well. . . .
O god whom patriots adore,
I scorn thee; for in thee I see
The symbol of barbarity.
Therefore I hate thee, god of war!
I scorn thee; for in thee I see
The symbol of barbarity.
Therefore I hate thee, god of war!
As mothers curse thee, so curse I—
Mothers whose sons were racked with pain,
Whose mutilated bodies slain
Are heaped in vain beneath the sky.
Mothers whose sons were racked with pain,
Whose mutilated bodies slain
Are heaped in vain beneath the sky.
With pick and hammer let us rise
And break this idol-shape of stone,
Breathing forth slaughter from his throne
Hid in the inmost shrine of lies.
And break this idol-shape of stone,
Breathing forth slaughter from his throne
Hid in the inmost shrine of lies.
Down with the temple which above
Sets up a blood-bespattered rag!
And let us with a world-wide flag
Find freedom in the work of love.
Sets up a blood-bespattered rag!
And let us with a world-wide flag
Find freedom in the work of love.