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Showing posts with label Hugh MacDiarmid. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hugh MacDiarmid. Show all posts

Thursday, 24 March 2011

Extracts from a poem - read it, Glasgow Labour-controlled City Council - persecutors of the Jaconellis, betrayers of the Glasgow people

I commend these excerpts from MacDiarmid’s poem to Labour-controlled Glasgow City Council, to the Glasgow Labour Party, to Michael Kelly (for his facile Scotsman article today) and to all those shallow, complacent journalists who could not find the facts other than the ones fed to them by Glasgow City Council’s PR handouts, and who would not have recognised a true human interest story - and tragedy in the making - if it had reared up and bit them.

John Maclean would have recoiled in utter disbelief and revulsion from the thing the Labour Party has become in the country of its birth, Scotland, and notoriously, in the City of Glasgow.

And I pay tribute to those who did recognise the truth and the facts, and who offered objective reporting to the Jaconellis, and their wholehearted support.

(I am indebted to my friend Gordon Cowell, a true Scot living in Spain, for immediately seeing the relevance of the poem and telling me about it. Thanks Gordon!)

JOHN MACLEAN (1879-1923)

All the buildings in Glasgow are grey

With cruelty and meanness of spirit,

But once in a while one greyer than the rest

A song shall merit

Since a miracle of true courage is seen

For a moment its walls between.

Look at it, you fools, with unseeing eyes

And deny it with lying lips!


And ‘justice’ may well do its filthy work

Behind walls as filthy as these

And congratulate itself blindly and never know

The prisoner takes the light with him as he goes below.

Stand close, stand close, and block out the light

As long as you can, you ministers and lawyers,


the light of truth in on the base pretence

Of Justice that sentenced him behind these grey walls.

All law is the contemptible fraud he declared it.

Like a lightning-bolt at last the workers’ wrath falls

On all such castles of cowards whether they be

Uniformed in ermine, or blue, or khaki.

Royal honours for murderers and fools! The ‘fount of honour’

Is poisoned and spreads its corruption all through,

But Scotland will think yet of the broken body

And unbreakable spirit …

Hugh MacDiarmid (1934)


Gordon Cowell - who sent me the poem, offers this valuable correction -

In today’s blog you say:

“Labour - the party of John MacLean and Keir Hardie”

Well, John MacLean never in fact belonged to the Labour Party. He considered it an inadequate vehicle for the profound social change he sought and dedicated his life to (indeed gave his life for).

He was, beyond doubt, one of Scotland’s greats. Here’s Matt McGinn’s tribute to him:

Keir Hardie, as every schoolboy knows (?), was a founder of the Labour Party and he made damn sure that in the first “manifesto” Home Rule for Scotland (and Ireland) was well up on the list of demands (see attached photo of a leaflet where Home Rule takes pride of place – top left-hand corner!).

This demand was, of course, swiftly kicked under the carpet by the trough-swillers who hi-jacked the Party, realising that the pickings would be much grander at Westminster. Scottish Labour should never be allowed to forget this and should be reminded at every opportunity that in this too they are betraying constantly their own roots. For them it is just one more piece of ballast to be jettisoned in order to keep their hot-air balloon wafting above the heads of the people.


Friday, 10 December 2010

The Parrot Cry – Hugh MacDiarmid

My thanks to my friend Gordon Cowell for bringing this MacDiarmid poem to my attention. An extract …

England, frae whom a' blessings flow

What could we dae withoot ye?

Then dinna threep it doon oor throats

As gin we e'er could doot ye!

My feelings lang wi' gratitude

Ha'e been sae sairly harrowed

That dod! I think it's time

The claith was owre the parrot!

The Parrot Cry

by Hugh MacDiarmid (1892 – 1978)

Saor Alba!