Muhammad Ali wrote this poem to
illustrate what happened during
the Ithaca prison riot in NY, where,
on governor Rockefeller's order,
prison inmates were deliberately
shot to death.
But afar from all I see
To die fighting to be free
What more fitting in could be
Better surely than in some bed
in broken health I am led
lingering until I am dead
Better than with prison please
or in the clutch of some disease
wasting slowly by degrees
Better then that heart attack
or some dose of drug I lack
Let me die by being black
Better far that I should go
Standing here against the foe
is there sweetest death to know
than better the blood is staying
on some highway where I am laying
torn by flying glass and pain
better call on death to come
than to die another dumb
muted victim in the slum
better than if this prison rot
then if there is any choice I've got
kill me here on the spot
Better far my fight to wage
now awhile my blood boils with rage
less it cooled with ancient age
better violent for us to die
than to Uncle Tom and try
making peace just to live a lie
better now then I say my soothe
I am going to die demanding truth
while I am still akin to youth
better now than later on
now the fear of death is gone
never mind another dawn.
They opened fire...and the prisoners
die telling it like it was.
Mohammad Ali aka The Greatest, wrote this poem.
Aucun commentaire:
Enregistrer un commentaire