Suggested by a story attributed to Shostakovich in the biography
‘Testimony’
We were the sightless songsters of our land
And on street corners sang our ancient lays.
A simple life we led from mouth to hand,
And valued coins far more than valued praise.
Only I played false and feigned my lack of sight.
The life was easy and I felt no shame,
My band of brothers saw all things as night
And knew me by my voice and by my name.
When Stalin called, we felt the thrill of pride.
Come all, said he, let’s drink and feast and sing!
Oh Yes! said we, Oh Yes! we all replied,
And so made up a massive gathering.
We were the history books of our proud race
Which would survive as long as we drew breath.
And only I could see from that grim face,
That our knowledge could mean only death.
And only I could see what was to come,
The horror that killed them and me struck dumb.
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