When the centuries begin
to cycle back
and jingoism rings
through the streets,
when the civilized veneer falls
and false saints rise to power,
do not despair, dear human,
do not think you are alone,
remember, know in your heart that
art will save us.
In a world full of sheep
as we fight back to back,
against impossible odds,
against numberless hordes,
do not despair, because,
through the blackest of filth
sunshine will still reach us,
art will save us.
When we have no more strength left,
when of reason we are all but bereft,
a strand of music will float over to us:
a poem, a prayer, a battle-song,
a peaceful landscape will come to mind,
a childhood home,
a summer house,
a lazy road outside the public library,
it will all come to us like a memory, and
art will save us
If, however, we are parted
by fate or foe
and you are caught alone
in the swarm of flies,
where every mouth that speaks to you
is nothing but a bowl of lies,
when they tell you
that liberty is now ended,
and freedom is forever lost,
do not believe them, my friend,
do not despair, remember:
art will save us.
When the old war begins anew,
and us men of peace,
go to war,
as we bleed
through noble wounds,
as religion’s sword
comes down upon us,
and even as we are forced
down upon our knees,
do not despair, beloved sentient beings,
because always,
art will save us.
Remember, you are not alone.
Though they may be few,
and far between,
there are humans in the world yet,
there are free lands yet,
men,
and women,
who will die before liberty does,
poets,
and painters,
who will never let the rot fester,
and neither you,
nor us,
are undefended, because always, without fail,
I swear to you upon my soul,
it will come to our aid,
it will rescue us
and those who come after us,
art will save us.
