Late Comrade Gopal Bhattacharya wrote some poems and got them published in form of a small book, “No Rifle In My Hand”!
His first one, “STALIN” is here:
No rifle in my hand
There’s only a book
And red letters on it: STALIN
If I were killed on
Zebra-crossing
Oh passers- by, whoever may you be
Pick the book up with you_
Don’t know about a rifle?
Read it. Can’t read letters?
Give it to your brother then
To my brother_ yes.
The man said: For all
The olive tree offers its fruit
He wanted: Every child to giggle
Being a joy to his mother
Wrote he: Those who are bending
Their head to-day
Must hold their head high
Against terrible frown.
He was from Kremlin, Joseph
An alert sentinel_ restless guy
Close friend of workers and peasants
throughout the world.
Exhorted loudly: Workers and peasants
Do have your legitimate rights
Get yourself armed.
No weapon in my hand
But only a book I’ve
The group of executioners
Halted frightfully
And the fascists withdrew in retreat
And the hired touts proved futile
With their foolish tricks
And the shrewd ruffians freezed out
In crowd
Only a masked few took up the reigns.
And so he was killed practically
Followed by further killings_
And if I were killed
You’d find in vivid the book: STALIN.
Just as he fared face-to-face
Against the cannibals
Under Chamberlain
In fighting-attire, a soldier
Protecting the country from repression
and want of regeneration
Yes, ready with arms.
I’ve no military-dress but
Armed with a book
Living on the wings of confidence
and hope
For moulding a verse
And getting news and messages
from various quarters
For getting prepared
And if you ask for more
I must say: yes,
I’ve a definite direction_ STALIN

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