LOW-END POPULATION, PROLETARI DI TUTTO IL MONDO ...

 
Hi everyone:
I am Xiao Hai (小海) from Poems and Songs of Laborers. A big fire has affected each and every one of us. Moving, relocation, and eviction have left us with no place to go. Whenever such major accidents happen, we see tremendous contrast between the confidence of those who post public notices and the distressed, panicked, helpless, and numb expressions on the faces of fellow workers who are busy moving out. I feel that we, who have existed in these narrow spaces, have kept our silence for too long. We too must make our voice heard. Where on earth can we go? Reality does not happen in grand offices or in conference rooms. Reality happens in crowded places, in the cold wind, in the streets!
Now, together with my fellow workers, I will read a poem called “Let’s Go, Children, with the North Wind of Beijing” by Ms. Yu Xiuhua (余秀华):
Leave the sunshine to tomorrow
Leave it to the high-end people to glorify
Leave the happiness to tomorrow
Leave it to the high-end people
Leave the hope to tomorrow
Leave it to the high-end people
But let despair stay
The despair that is left to stay
Will be high-end despair
We have no place to go
But we are on the territory of the motherland
Wearing thin clothes in the cold
We are on the territory of the motherland
We own nothing at all
The motherland is all we have
The motherland in the Beijing accent
The motherland in dialects
The motherland in office buildings
The motherland in rental rooms
This motherland also belongs to them
To those who post the notices
To those who break the windows
To those who rob us when we are in a plight
Children, you must trust me
We live in a low place
But it is not low-end
You don’t attend aristocratic schools
But it is not low-end
Even though you are in rags
You are still not low-end
The low-end owns the narrow-mindedness of the low-end people
The kind-hearted have the tolerance of the kind-hearted people.