1. |
P.R.C.
03:29
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PRC
A thunderstorm burst over the earth,
So a devil rose from a heap of white bones.
The deluded monk was not beyond the light,
But the malignant demon must wreak havoc.
The Golden Monkey wrathfully swung his massive cudgel
And the jade-like firmament was cleared of dust.
Today, a miasmal mist once more rising,
We hail Sun Wu-kung, the wonder-worker
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2. |
Albania
01:49
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ALBANIA
WEEP!
Albanians, you are killing your brothers,
Into a hundred factions you are divided,
Some say 'I believe in God,' others 'I in Allah,'
But you are brothers,
all of you, my hapless people!
The priests and the hodjas have deceived you
To divide you and keep you poor.
Weep, oh swords and rifles,
The Albanian has been snared
like a bird in a trap!
Weep with us, oh heroes,
For Albania has fallen
with her face in the dirt.
Awaken, Albania, wake from your slumber,
Let us all, as brothers, swear a common oath
And not look to church or mosque,
The faith of the Albanian is Albanianism!
Weep, oh swords and rifles,
The Albanian has been snared like a bird in a trap!
Weep with us, oh heroes,
For Albania has fallen with her face in the dirt.
Let no one touch us for we are all to die!
Let us die like men as our forefathers once did
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3. |
Guatemala
02:27
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GUATEMALA
SMALL COUNTRY MY SWEET TORMENT
SONG SETTLEING IN MY THROAT
CENTURIES OF REBEL CORN
A THOUSAND YEARS I CARRY OUR NAME
A TIMY FUTURE HEART WHOSE WINGS
BEGIN TO OPEN TOMORROW
I WILL DESCEND DEPTHS YOU CLAIM FOR ME
I WILL DRINK OF YOUR BITTER CHALICES
I WILL REMAIN BLIND THAT YOU MAY SEE
REMAIN VOICELESS THAT YOU MAY SING
I WILL DIE THAT YOU MAY LIVE
SO YOUR FLAMING FACE APPEARS
IN EVERY FLOWER BORN OF MY BONES
CENTURIES OF REBEL CORN
A THOUSAND YEARS I CARRY OUR NAME
A TIMY FUTURE HEART WHOSE WINGS
BEGIN TO OPEN TOMORROW
THAT IS THE WAY IT MUST BE
UNQUESTIONABLY
TIRED OF CARRYING YOUR TEARS WITH ME
WALK WITH YOU IN LIGHTNING STEP
WITH YOU ON YOUR JOURNEY
CUZ I AM A MAN OF THE PEOPLE
BORN IN OCTOBER TO CONFRONT THE WORLD
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4. |
Chicago
03:23
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CHICAGO
gon’ have to do more than talk.
gonna have to do more than listen.
gon’ have to do more than learn.
gon’ have to start practice, and that’s very hard.
once this system goes, on the mountaintop,
knowing that those in the valley,
our plight is the same
as the people in the valley,
enemies on the mountaintop,
our friends is in the valley,
nice to be on the mountaintop,
we going back to the valley. x2
Everything would be alright
put it back in the hands of the people,
and we’re gon’ have to put it back
in the hands of the people.
When you leave here, leave here saying, \
the last words, before you go to bed tonight, say,
“I am a revolutionary.”
in case you don’t wake up.
our friends is in the valley,
nice to be on the mountaintop,
we going back to the valley.
In the spirit of liberation,
Yellow power to yellow people.
Black power to black people.
X power to those we left out.
Say that, I am a revolutionary.
I am a revolutionary.
Say it when you going out.
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5. |
Ajax
01:51
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Lyrics from:
Speech by
Mohammed Mosaddegh
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6. |
Iran
02:04
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IRAN
O, where is the capital of this mad century of false faith
with its nights bright like day
its stark and dark days like nights
in the depths of fairy tales,
with its strong, dreadful, impenetrable fortresses,
with the mean smiles of its gates,
cold and alien?
turbulent century of evil faith
the bloodthirsty century
with the fantastic excrement
of a far-flying birdt
the four pillars of God's seven climes
are instantly rocked and whatever there is of existence,
is struck down, is swept clean?
to open wide the wide,
nine-folded nothingland
of this insensitive dusty place
with the drcadful clashing of our sharp swords,
the frightening thundcr of our dreadcd drums,
the stone-splitting flight of our swift arrows,
to snatch demons' life bottles
from the spell of the hidden fortress
from the hands of their sorcerer guards
,to smash them on the ground.
And if the earth--that decrepit cradle of the world horizons
--offers the sofl hand of its greenness
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7. |
Cuba
01:23
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I worked on and on.
strengthened the foundations of my
milllenary song
I went to the bush.
My real independence
happened at the palenque
I rode among the calvary.
a century later,
alongsie my descendants,
I came down from the Sierra
To wipe out capital and usuers,
and generals and bourgeois
only today do we own AND create.
Nothing is foreign to us.
Our land.
Ours the sea and heaven.
the magic and chimera.
My equals, I see you dance
Compañeros, here I see you dance
around the tree we are
planting for communism.
Its prodigal wood resounds
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8. |
Congo
02:44
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CONGO
Weep, O my black beloved brother
deep buried in eternal, bestial night.
O you, whose dust and hurricanes have scattered over the vast earth,
You, by whose hands the pyramids were reared In memory of royal murderers,
You, rounded up in raids; you, defeated In all the battles ever won by brutal force
put off on its way to far-off shores
Where God is cotton, where the dollar reigns as King.
They taught you the psalms to glorify
WHILE YOU TO HYMNS WERE CRUCIFIED
You, who were taught one perpetual lesson,
One motto, slavery or death;
You, who lay hidden in impenetrable jungles
succumbed to countless deaths
Under the ugly guise of jungle fever,
Or lurking in the tiger's fatal jaws,
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9. |
Angola (Ndongo)
03:01
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ANGOLA (Ndongo)
In the tearful woes of
ancient and the modern slave
In the degrading sweat
of impure dance Of other seas
In the infamous sensation of
the stunning perfume of the Flower
Crushed in the forest
By the wickedness of iron and fire
the grieved ...
In the dream soon undone
in jinglings of gaolers’ keys
And in the stifled laughter and
victorious voice of laments
And in the unconscious brilliance
of hidden sensations
Of the grieved lands of Africa
theyre Alive
In themselves and with us alive
They bubble up in dreams
Decked with dances by baobabs over balances
In the perpetual alliance of everything that lives
They shout out the sound of life they Shout it
Even the corpses thrown up by the Atlantic
In putrid offering of incoherence
And death and in the clearness Of rivers...
In the harmonious sound of consciences
Contained in the honest blood of men
In the strong desire of men
In the sincerity
In the pure and simple rightness of the stars’ Existence
They live
The grieved lands of Africa
Because we are living
And are imperishable particles
Of the grieved lands of Africa.
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OLD THRASHERS REUNION
A congeries of primaeval tracts documenting the moth that tried to enter the bright eye, so I go shuffling out of life, Just to hide in death awhile
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