194
PARTISAN REVIEW
Suddenly he became strangely transformed. Now he was a
country peasant, mysterious and cunning, like his recent ancestors.
His face seemed aloof and coarse. His eyes were half closed .
All of a sudden, someone began to sing with him . At first, one
uncertain voice, then a second and a third. And then a whole disso–
nant, unorganized chorus of voices:
For Justice thunders on damnation ,
A better world in birth.
'Tis the final conflict, let each stand in his place .
The multitude of faces joined in.o one trembling spot. The ac–
tors on stage froze . Lebedyeva pressed her hands to her temples.
Khuriev waved his cleaning rod. A strange, dreamy smile had set on
the lips of the leader of the Revolution.
No more shall chains of violence bind us,
Arise, you slaves, no more in thrall,
The earth shall rise on new foundations . .
Suddenly, my throat contracted painfully. For the first time, I
was part of my unique, unprecedented country . I was entirely made
of cruelty, hunger, memory, malice.... From tears, I couldn't see
for a moment. I don't think anyone noticed.
And then the singing died down. The last stanza was finished
out by a few isolated, embarrassed voices.
"The performance is over!" Khuriev said .
Overturning the hp'1ches, the prisoners headed for the door.
Translated
by
Anne Frydman
:1
