Hiroshima, August 1945 (poem)

Sadly, the weekly poem by Richard Layton will be (hopefully) temporarily suspended. We will publish instead for the time being, once a week, poetry from the archives of the Socialist Standard.

From the Winter 1985-6 issue of the World Socialist

Hiroshima, August 1945

The following poem was written by a member of the Socialist Party of Great Britain shortly after he heard the news of the bombing.

Like a blast from hell the atom bomb came,

And a city in ruins was hurled;

On wings of fear, it thundered its name,

Through a shocked and war torn world;

This atomic force with transmutable breath,

Its first warning sign we see,

Garden of plenty, or desert of death;

What is this world to be?

The challenge is vital, and urgent the hour;

When this Capitalist era must pass,

And workers control this atomic power,

So misused by the ruling class;

This nuclear power from the atom was wrought,

It evolved in the womb of time,

Born of the labour of man's social thought,

Its baptism, Fire, blood and crime;

Dark is the future if our governments command

This scientific genie of might,

Secret diplomacy knows no remand,

From chaos and abysmal night;

The Capitalist powers are still planning our fate,

And with their lies seek to stifle our fears,

Turning worker against worker, in blind bonds of hate,

For their new orgy of blood sweat and tears;

A Socialist world, no other solution,

Presents itself to mankind;

The workers must strive for a world revolution,

And cast off those fetters that bind;

This atomic force with transmutable breath,

For good or for ill must abide,

Garden of plenty or desert of death?

The workers themselves must decide.

Walter Atkinson