Swords and Plowshares/The God of War

​The God of War

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 swordSubdues 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!
As mothers curse thee, so curse I— Mothers whose sons were racked with pain, Whose mutilated bodies slainAre 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 throneHid 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 flagFind freedom in the work of love.

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