Few remember
about the days about those,
as they were called,
as they fought,
but memory
about it
the red day
the working heart keeps.
When
capital was still young
and were
pipes are lower,
they
fluttered the banner of struggle
in its
French Paris.
Hope
in the hearts of the poor
having grounded,
the rich
anxiety out,
of living socialism
the words
over the world
lit for the first time.
The whole world of bourgeois
in applause
poured off
palm saddle,
when they went
on the tape
gendarmes of the bourgeoisie -
Versailles
.
Do not rummage
they
the law in the graph,
did not argue,
water tolcha.
Commune
put to the wall of Halif
,
French
their Kolchak.
Have their voices died down at all,
Is it possible to finish off forever? -
To make sure,
ladies
in the eyes
to pop
umbrella tip.
Commune
bourgeois
chewed in appetite
and lips
banners wiped.
Only the slogan
remained to us:
"Defeat!
Win -
or die! "
The Versailles,
Paris
otlevav lead,
are gone
under a spike bar,
and again it began to shine
bourgeois face
before our October.
Working class
and smarter
and more crowded.
Do not knock us out
not a word,
nor a whip.
They
lasted
a handful of days -
we
will be
to stick to the century.
Shelves
their names are left
above the procession
red masses,
Today
his pride
and sadness
bring
the ninth time.
1927
Disclaimer: I just found these in my library. I do not have the rights to them,
I just them and decided to share them with you.