I  AM
  by  Jirina  Fuchsova

I am the first glimmer of dawn bouncing of the St.
 Bartholomew's steeple on May morning...

I am the cold sweep of western wind singing over the
 Radyne ruis in freezing February dusk...

I am the cry of a seagull shattering on the moorings
 of Charles' Bridge at 7:30 a.m. in summer...

I am the hadnful of sixpointed stars deep in the
 masonry of the place which has witnessed the
 mutilated body of a saint being thrown into the River...

I am the blood of 27 patriots still seeping among
 the cobblestones of the Old Town Square...

I am the head of the horse looking straight into the
 firestorm under the first Czech king dressed in a
 mail shirt, helmet, carrying a spear directly
 into the future...

I am the dark eyes of Franz Kafka still staring into
 the gaping jaws of inhumanity and asking    ever
 so gently  Why..???

I am the sounds of MA VLAST fluttering incessantly
 over the waters next to the National Theatre...

I am a clanking tram No.22 and fragrance of morning
 coffee at McDonald's in Mostecka ulice...

I am the accepting smile of the God-Child enshrined
 forever u Panny Marie Vitezne promising "Zdari se
 dilo, pro ktere jsi byl poslan..."

I am the ancient dust clinging to books within
 the walls of Strahov monastery...

I am the red roses on the floor of Loretto shrine
built here for ever greater glory of God
 Alleluia...

I am the homeless humanity finding a resting place
 for their heads under Prague's beautiful bridges...

I am those who do not know how they will pay for
 power  water  and potatoes  during the next 
 month...

I am the lonely  the abandoned   the forgotten
 I am Czech Princess Agnes ministering to the dying
 and afflicted in the thousand-year-old hospital
 Na Frantisku...

I am the darkness of war  the wail of an unborn child
 the embroidered and gold-aflame Book of Hours...

I am the eight marble eyes of four Evangelists
 in St. Nicholas' Church with emerald head...

I am hospoda U Sojku and a glass of ice-cold
 Pilsner Urquell...

I am hospoda U dvou sluncu with spirit of Jan
 Neruda appearing in the sunlight as it throws
 its diamonds into my glass of Krusovicke...

I am flowering chestnut trees on the banks of
 silver Vltava...

I am a meadow full of dandelion gold and I am gold
 in NATO general's epaulets...

I am the harmonica playing Czech marching songs
 U Svejku...

I am the hand of St. George raised high ready to
 strike at the dragon's head...

I am the dust next to Charles the IVth's coffin in
 the crypt of St. Vitus...

I am the headdress of green precious stones and gold
 from the New World guarding the most precious
 skull of St. Wenceslaus in the cathedral above
 the City...

I am the first American tank that made it to Plzen
 on May 6th, 1945...

I am the 4-wheel drive Ford that carried me throughout
 the Sumava mountains to and fro between 1945 and
 1953...

I am the night shift watching the computers that
 control the flow of all golden Pilsner Urquell
 that is ever consumed anywhere in the world...

I am the red-hot metal in SKODA works before they
 pour it out and work it into a sleek and precise
 shape to serve first the machinery and then 
 the people who use it...

I am the waters of four rivers that come together
 in Plzen and then flow jointly toward Karlstejn
 castle...

I am the day and the night over that land...

I am both its suffering and its neverending glory...

I am both its bloody past and the innocent dawn
 of its coming, and God will-see-to-it!, better
 future...

I am the first and the last of its men  women
 and children...   I   AM   MY  COUNTRY....

In life, in joy, in subjugation, in exile, in her,
 thousands of miles away from her,

I   AM   MY   COUNTRY...

For eternity...

And not even death

will ever do us part...


A M E N...

Jirina Fuchsova (born 1943 in Plzen)
Czech poet
Just like other 30.000 Czech-born Citizens of USA,
she is still denied her native Czech citizenship,
her right to restitute Nazi or Communist-confiscated
property, and just like ALL CZECH CITIZENS today!
should she find herself abroad on the day of Czech
elections, she is illegally barred from voting...
 Jirina Fuchsova is a lecturer in Czech language,
literature and history at LMU in Los Angeles,
and consultant in ALL THINGS CZECH.
jfuchs@sprynet.com