We All Are Lumumba (Lekra, 1961)

Title: Lekra (1961) - We All Are Lumumba, transl. Bintang Suradi, incl. Sugiarti Siswadi [archive.org] Source: Internet Archive, https://archive.org/details/we-all-are-lumumba-bintang-suradi-trans-1961-lekra-lembaga-kebudayaan-rakjat-ins Date retrieved: 2026-10-19 OCR text (_djvu.txt) ~UMUMBA Beanscame league of people's culture —lekra— indonesia This booklet is dedicated to all Asian-African Fighters for National Independence, whose representatives are gathered in the Emergency Meeting of the Afro-Asian Writers' Bureau, Tokyo-JAPAN, March 1961 and Council Meeting of Asian-African Peoples’ Solidarity, Bandung-INDONESIA, April 1961 Beanscaner S. Anantaguna: lumumba News came early in the morning Lumumba is dead Lumumba is dead Anger split the world asunder A worker calls out: who cen murder my era — the rails of trains the length of the rays of the sun We ali are Lumumba Lumumba A peasant stamps his feet: the people never die — the heart is in the rice growing along in struggle and song Freedom that's Lumumba Lumumba A soldier clenches his fist never did bullets kill the spirit — mention the native land the people an ever-flowing source cf triumph Democracy that's Lumumba Lumumba Beanscaner In the streets the youth do meet: the earth writhes in fury, mountains split — scattering the rainbow shadowing the sky of revolution Fidelity that's Lumumba Lumumba In the villages women meet: the quivering lips of love do speak — soaking revenge holding their swelling wombs they murmur A man was the hero Lumumba Lumumba News came early in the morning Lumumba is dead Lumumba is dead the earth shivered the revolution marches on Long live Lumumba Long live Lumumba. Beanscamer tr, Bandaharo: he was murdered he was murdered by the henchmen of the world his blood was shed on the sand and the blood became fire flowing over and setting the lands ablaze africa, asia and all the continents; all hearts aflame, all heads enraged; blood was shed red is the blood of the people. he was murdered by the henchmen of the world, his body was wrapped in heat the earth was hot and the sky was hot the flame flared into a signal-fire arousing peoples and continents; asia-africa stood up as one erect challenging this death demanding defence for wife and child demanding defence of the oppressed; blood shed cries for revenge red is the blood of the people. Beensaoee he is no more a husband, a parent and faithful catholic; but his blood was red rending the sky and soil of the congo red rending struggle and spirit red; the henchmen's blood-stained hands wrote the last black pages of colonialism's historic doom; the blood shed leads on to triumph red is the blood of the people he is no more but wife and child all asian-african peoples forever chant his name lumumba is husband and parent lumumba is human history lumumba is struggle that knows no surrender! Beanscaner Njicto: scarlet red Lumumba's blood is scarlet red Lumumba's blood is scarlet red Congo! Your hunger is our own Your hunger we have in common hunger for the revolution. Lumumba's blood is scarlet red Lumumba's blood is scarlet red Congo! Your revolution is our own Your revolution we have in common the world revolution. Beans Sitor Situmorang: patrice lumumba The white-skinned henchman swung into action | And put an end to a fighter's life i There in the Congo The old plot enacted again! He gave his life the black hero For a free Africa, A free Asia, a free World Murdered in a trap Hi, youth of the world Your champion has been slain But this is not the last time Just see The colonialists have not yet been crushed Lumumba, |umumba has perished! Peoples of Asia and Africa Kindle for ever the fire of the Revolution Demand defence! Demand life! Beware! 11 Gun against gun Sword against sword Revenge against ferocity! Burn down wipe out! The fangs and brains of the imperialists From the soil of Asia-Africa! Make ready thousands of valleys of death Mountains, forests, sand and seas! Graves for the colonialists! Come on! Stand by! Today Algeria, yesterday Dien Bien Phu, tcmorrow West Irian! Remember Jamilah! Monginsidi! Remember Freedom, freedom Froedom until death! Patrice Lumumba To you revolutionary tribute we give! 12 Beanscamer a letter for pauline This letter addressed to Pauline Lumumba was written by the noted, young Indonesian woman writer, Sugiarti Siswadi on the occasion of International Women's Day, 1961. On this day, Pauline, the day which marks the awakening of the women, please accept my most intimate greetings. |, like you, am a wife, a mother, and friend. My grief is great, as great as yours, as great as that of your children, of your people. A man has gone from us, and that man was your man, that man belonged to your people, to your children, nay, he belonged to all of us, a man with an honest heart. There are many ways in which people die, Pauline, some die in such a shameful way that people feel too embarressed even to talk about it, and history hides its face, it does not want to record such deaths. Such is the death of traitors. There are also glorious deaths, Pauline, to which the world bows in obeisance, for which the stars in the sky pale and the wind subdues, for which the waves kiss the shores with reverent sympathy and the echo of its mourn grips ages and masses, transcending time and space. That is the death of a hero, who does not know of surrender, who does not ask for mercy, because he was not wrong. Such was the death of Patrice, your husband, your lover, the father of your children, and your comrade. Pauline, Patrice bequeaths his manliness to your children, nay, to the children of the world. He delegated a revenge for which there is no cure to all those who are slaves but who have now raised their heads and behold the brilliant blue of the sky, the beauty of a new dawn. "Mummy, Lumumba has been killed", grieved my little boy and his eyes moistened with tears as he brandished his clenched little fist. His grief was profound, Pauline, and he will take this grief into his years of manhood, and he will be the hero | expect him to be one day. Pauline, none of us wants to become a coward, but, too, none of us wants an empty death, for life is so precious, life is not senseless but will erect a radiant new world. But Pauline, were death demanded from us, we would comply voluntarily, as Lumumba did, with the certitude of heroes that refuse to bow. 13 Your husband smiled in the face of death, his eyes were tende peceuse they radiated boundless love: his head was upright and * ded erect and bs murderers, Pauline. are the vilest in the eves c man. Pauline dear, do not grieve. In the bitterness of struggle, in 5 mounting ever steeper cbstacies, history knows of glorious couple who hend in hand built a mew world. We have known Lenin and Khrupskaya, Julics Fucik and his wife Gusta, the couple eterna! i parodise, Julius and Ethe! Rosenberg, those rocks of peace murdered n the electric chair, and now, when the twentieth century stands a! ts zenith. history registered in its annals: Patrice and Pauline Lumumba. His legacy of manliness, Pauline, is so beeutiful and so precious. Long is the!.fe that stretches before you, Pauline, for a long time to come we have to use this priceless life. Let not our lives be in vain. We live on'y once and on the last day, when wo will be nm more, we will be able to say; everything precious we hed we con. tributed to the Liberation of Mankind. Pauline, accept my profoundes! condolences. Pauline, take my hand. Together we will stride forwatd on to the height of the struggle. The last battle is the heaviest, yet the most decisive: And we refuse to be left behind! 14