The people’s flag is deepest red,

It shrouded oft our matyr’d dead 

And ere their limbs grew stiff and cold,

Their hearts’ blood dyed its ev’ry fold.

Then raise the scarlet standard high,

Within its shade we’ll live and die,

Though cowards flinch and traitors sneer,

We’ll keep the red flag flying here.

Look round, the Frenchman loves its blaze,

The sturdy German chants its praise,

In Moscow’s vaults its hymns are sung,

Chicago swells the surging throng.

It waved above our infant might

When all ahead seemed dark as night;

It witnessed many a deed and vow,

We must not change its colour now.

It well recalls the triumphs past;

It gives the hope of peace at last:

The banner bright, the symbol plain,

Of human right and human gain.

It suits today the meek and base,

Whose minds are fixed on pelf and place,

To cringe before the rich man’s frown

And haul the sacred emblem down.

With heads uncovered swear we all

To bear it onward till we fall.

Come dungeon dark or gallows grim,

This song shall be our parting hymn.

Welcome comrades to the unmotivated revolutionweb blog which aspires to become a resource for all, from the ‘curious’ to the ‘synics’ to the ’academics’. This is your space be as you will but please be fair. You are invited to share your ideas, thoughts, dreams and experiences of revolution.