Sonnets for Cynara (XIV)

Poem by Jan Campert
Rebel. my heart, jailed and enslaved,
that on the trellis of the mundane pulls;
do not feel pressured by your temporary fate ,
even if the shackles are hard, and the walls tight.

For in the beginning was predestined for you,
that a few have continued to succeed
in breaking the bar that presses on their shoulders,
so do not let up, but fight and fight and fight.

Break out and blow upon the muted cinders
that lie hidden under the smoking ruins;
move swiftly like a storm over the low garden
called Holland; strike deadly and quick,
so that wickedness shall meet a terrifying end,
o heart, my heart, o rebel the color of blood.
(Contributed by Rozita on Tuesday, February 8th, 2011)
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Dutch Literature

European Literature