Vanzetti's Letter

Vanzetti's Letter - Woody Guthrie (伍迪·格思里)

Written by：Woody Guthrie

The year it is 1927

An' the day is the third day of may

Town is the city called Boston an' our address this dark Dedham jail

To your honor

The Governor Fuller to the council of Massachussetts state

We Bartolomo Vanzetti an' Nicola Sacco do say

Confined to our jail here at Dedham an' under the sentence of death

We pray you do exercise your powers an' look at the facts of our case

We do not ask you for a pardon

For a pardon would admit of our guilt

Since we are both innocent workers we have no guilt to admit

We are both born by parents in Italy can't speak English too well

Our friends of labor are writin' these words back of the barsin our cell

Our friends say if we speak too plain sir we may turn your feelings away

Widen these canyons between us but we risk our life to talk plain

We think sir that each human bein' is in

Close touch with all of man's kind

We think sir that each human bein' knows right from the wrong in his mind

We talk to you here as a man sir even knowing our opinions divide

We didn't kill the guards at South Braintree nor dream of such a terrible crime

We call your eye to this fact sir

We work with our hand and our brain

These robberies an' killings were done sir by professional bandit men

Sacco has been a good cutter Mrs Sacco their money has saved

I Vanzetti l could have saved money but I gave it as fast as received

I'm a dreamer a speaker an' a writer I fight on the working folks' side

Sacco is Boston's fastest shoe trimmer and he talks to the husbands and wives

We hunted your land and we found it hoped we'd find freedom of mind

Built up your land

This land of the free an' this is what we come to find

If we was those killers good Governor we'd not be so dumb and so blind

To pass out our handbills

And make workers' speeches out here by the scene of the crime

Those fifteen thousands of dollars the lawyers and judge said we took

Do we sir dress up like two gentlemen with that much in our pocketbook

Our names are on the long list of radicals of the Federal Government sir

They said that we needed watching as we peddled our literature

Judge Thayer's mind's made up sir when we walked into the court

Well he called us anarchistic bastards said lots of other things worse

They brought people down there to Brockton to look through the bars of our cell

Made us act out the motions of the killers

And still not so many could tell

Before the trial ever started the jury foreman did say

An' he cussed us an' said damn they well they'd ought to hang anyway

Our fatal mistake was carryin' our guns about which we had to tell lies

To keep the police from raiding the homes of workers believing like us

A labor paper or a picture a letter from a radical friend

An old cheap gun like you keep around home would torture good women and men

We all feared deporting and whipping torments to make us confess

The place where the workers are meeting the house your name and address

Well the officers said we feared something which they called a consciousness of guilt

We was afraid of wreckin' more homes and seein' more workers' blood spilt

Well the very first question they asked us was not about killing the clerks

But things about our labor movement and how our trade union works

Oh how could our jury see clearly when the lawyers and judges and cops

Called us low type Italians said we looked just like regular wops

Draft dodgers gun packers anarchists these vulgar sounding names

Blew dust in the eyes of jurors the crowd in the courtroom the same

We do not believe sir that torture beatings and killings and pains

Will lift man's eyes to a highest of view an' break his bilbos and chains

We believe that you must struggle for freedom before your freedom you'll gain

Freedom from fear sir and greed sir and your freedom to think higher things

This fight sir is not a new battle we did not make it last night

'Twas fought by God win Shelly Pisacane Tolstoy and Christ

It's bigger than the atoms

An' the sands of the desert planets that roll in the sky

Till workers get rid of their robbers well

It's worse sir to live than to die

Your excellency we're not askin' pardon but askin' to be set free

With liberty and pride sir and honor and a pardon we will not receive

A pardon you given to criminals who've broken the laws of the land

We don't ask you for pardon sir because we are innocent men

Well if you shake your head

No dear Governor of course our doom it is sealed

We hold up our heads like two sons of men

Seven years in these cells of steel

We walk down this corridor to death sir like workers have walked it before

But we'll work in our working class struggle if we live a thousand lives more