Cheers Comrades and Companions!

And well: weary of so, so much crying and misery, weary with the eternal, disheartening scene that our disgraced children offer us, the tender pieces of our heart, tired of asking and begging, of being the plaything, the object of pleasure of our infamous exploiters or of vile husbands, we have decided to raise our united voice and demand, demand we say, our part of the pleasures of the banquet of life.

Long nights of work and suffering, black and horrific days without bread have weighed upon us, and it has been necessary that we felt the dry and dismembering screams of our hungry children, so that weary of so much misery and suffering, we decided to let our voice be heard, no longer in the form of a lament nor supplicant complaint, but as a vibrant and energetic demand. Everything belongs to everyone.

Until yesterday we have begged to a God, to a virgin or other saint, none less imaginary than the other, and when we set out, full of confidence, to ask for scraps for our children, do you know what we have found? The lascivious and lustful gaze of those men who, desirous of constantly changing the object of their impure pleasures, offered us with insinuating and deceitful voice a trade, a deal, a bank bill with which to cover the nakedness of our body, with no further obligation than to lend them it.

We marched forward, always confident and with our hopes placed in God and in the heavens, and after tripping and falling for not looking down where we walked while we fixed our longing gaze in the heavens, do you know what we found? Lasciviousness and brutal impurity, corruption and slime and a new occasion to sell our skinny and haggard bodies. We turned our eyes backward, they were dry, yes, very dry now! And there, in the distance, in the background, we almost saw our children, pale, weak, and sickly…and the dark breeze bringing us the eternal melody of bread. Mother, for God’s sake, bread! And then we understood why the falling…why the killing, why the stealing (read expropriation).

And it was also then, when we disavowed that God and understood how false his existence is; in short, that he doesn’t exist.

It was then that we took pity upon our fallen and disgraced comrades. It was then that we desired to break with all the worries and absurd snags, with this impious chain whose links are thicker than our bodies. We understood that we had a powerful enemy in the current society, and it was thus then that, looking at our surroundings, we saw many of our comrades fighting against that society; and how we understood that that was also our enemy, we decided to go with them against the common enemy, since we didn’t want to depend on anyone, we also raise in turn the red banner; we left to join the right…without God nor boss.

This is the purpose of our newspaper, dear comrades, not ours but everyone’s and this is why we declare ourselves COMMUNIST ANARCHISTS, proclaiming the right to life, that is, equality and liberty.

Cheers, comrades! Anarchy
The libertarian banner shakes already;
Hooray, dear brothers, to the fight!
To a strong arm, and a serene heart!

Behold, yes! Do you not see the shining
Horizon radiating light?
And between immense strands
Our banner waving. Hooray, to the fight!

Let none among us lag behind
Our fight is to the death, no holds barred;
Hooray! Dear sisters, another effort,
And who doubts that we shall win?

Let us tighten the lines, comrades
The red banner trembling,
Anarchy and health! And destroyed,
The bourgeois phalanxes will flee!

Serene, without fear, forever advancing,
We always march everywhere proudly,
Flattening the bourgeois henchmen
Destroying laws and power.

Comrades! Each opening in our lines
Should be answered with an explosion,
And thus, while flowing, we shall formidably go
Proclaiming the Social Revolution.

The uneducated believe -- and the ill-intentioned say -- that anarchism is at war with everything that is good, beautiful, with art, the sciences, and above all, with the household.

In fact, we have had the chance to hear from many working women’s lips the following: “Oh, how nice this anarchism idea of yours is! You want all of us…wives, daughters, mothers and sisters, to become mistresses, vile toys of the unhinged passions of men!”

It is to those who say and believe this that we now speak. Let us see.

We anarchist women believe that in the present society nobody is more disgraced in their condition than the unfortunate woman. As soon as puberty hits, we are the target of lustful and cynically sensual gazes of the strong sex. Be him from the exploiting or exploited class. Later, now “women,” we fall victim too many times to deceit in the muck of impurities, or in the scorn and contempt of society, which sees in our demise no love, no ideals, nothing but faultiness.

If we are able to achieve what many conceive of as their bliss, that is marriage, then our station is worse, a thousand times worse. Unemployment for the husband, scarcity of wages, illnesses, etc, make what in other circumstances would be the height of bliss into a grave condition and terrible burden for the “husbands.” Truly there is nothing as beautiful, as poetic, as tender, agreeable and nice as a child. A child! There is the height of bliss for a marriage! But woe to the poor, oh the place where misery looms and where a little life that requires our care, our caresses and attentiveness. Oh that home, won’t it be the site of one thousand fights and countless quarrels! Do you know why? That new life requires a thousand forms of care that inhibit the young mother from helping her partner with the expenses of the home, and which in part increase considerably as the income diminishes, such that what would be considered the desire and bliss of the home comes to be felt as a burden, an impediment, and the root of quarrels and miseries that one should make all effort to avoid, masturbation within marriage, sexual frauds and aberrations, with all its retinue of disgusting diseases. Therefrom the thousand and one disgusting and repugnant practices that turn the bridal chamber into a heap of disgusting obscenities, therefrom the weariness, boredom, illnesses, and that much maligned “offense” against “honor.” Adultery!

With the cause suppressed, so dies the effect. With misery suppressed, so go so many repugnancies, and the home, far from being what it is today, would be a paradise of enjoyments and delights.

How many testimonies have we received from our friends, scapegoats of such acts! “So what?” would respond the partner when confronted with his actions: did you not know how many costs a child generates? Midwife, physician, medications, diet, care, and then breastfeeding. What would you expect of me, when we barely have enough to live now that both of us work, if the expenses increased and our income decreased, what would I do then? Forget children, to hell with them!

Dear comrades: is this love, home, tenderness? It is gross to think that a woman would have to go through all this, and yet it is so true!

And now, when we proclaim free love, the free union of the sexes, we firmly believe that along with this those repugnancies disappear. Freely joined and with nothing to fear, well then we’d have sustenance assured for those beings, being fruits of love, being products of those who melded two beings into one upon the wings of their love, such that naturally both would be gleeful and free; equal partners in their respective actions, they would have nothing to fear from one another.

We have also been told that if love and partnership were free, as we wish, men would constantly replace their woman and women their men, that without anything to fear from society nor law they would not be faithful to one another, while today because of the legal punishments for adultery or for fear of social stigmatization, partners support one another’s faults and peculiarities.

Nothing, dear women comrades, is as uncertain as this. What each sex seeks is not the satisfaction of a more or less carnal appetite, no, what is sought is happiness, bliss, peace and honesty, and all relatively educated people seek reproduction and the realization of their aspirations, of their dream; if today society is so materialistic, so clinically individualistic, that is because, given that capital is the means through which pleasures and needs are bought or obtained, all people throw their efforts into securing it.

On the other hand, we, the “scourge” of society (as they refer to us), living as we do subject from a young age to laboring in the way it is today practiced, not only degrading and sacrificial, but also mind-numbing, naturally lack the education that the bourgeoisie, in their desire to monopolize it all, have also hoarded, and as a result we are unfamiliar with those thousand enjoyments this education provides: such as painting, music, poetry, sculpture, etc. and this being so, it is doubtless that in every action of our miserable lives, we are much more materialistic than we should be, and should we had been educated as the bourgeoisie are, we’d be much better than they. Art elevates feeling, and not possessing it, not even in its smallest expression, it is a matter of course we’d be unable to raise ourselves to it.

With education not being free and being unable to buy enough time for it, how are we women going to educate ourselves? Who could deny that from our earliest age the workshops swallow and mutilates us? That is not where we could educate ourselves, very much to the contrary, there one finds everything, everything, but that…and a hundred and one times have we witnessed the victims of bourgeois lust quickly descend in horrible tumbles and fall discarded into the abyss of vice, that swallowed them more hungrily and insatiably every time, covering them with muck and tears, and these barely-adults hastening their own downfall in order to free themselves from the catcalling and mockery of their own butchers!

All this is natural in this society, given the degree of ignorance in which we find ourselves. Take a hungry person and offer them a piece of bread, as black as it might be, and at the same time a gusle, a painting, or a poem, even if it be an immortal creation of Shakespeare’s or Lord Byron’s, what would they grab first? The bread! Not the book or the gusle; it’s clear, the spirit needs matter to manifest itself, and the needs of the latter are more important and rewarding than those of the former.

Without a doubt in a society in which its populace was educated to a more or less perfect degree the people could freely couple and live without fear of this making them more unhappy than if they had gotten the blessing of some third party for their choice.

The law, society, in its desire to control everything, obligates us to come together to pay them blind obeisance in this act [matrimony]. We women do not need such blessings or ceremonies, and this is as if we brought together two stray dogs and we told them that we were joining them together – “I allow you to be happy,” in that case they would behave as if we had told them the opposite.

The bourgeoisie must upon death bequeath to their children the fruits of their thievery, in due time when they go to this or that place, were they not to marry this way, the law would not recognize their inheriting children. This is a matter of business, and for them that comes first.

But in a society where such business doesn’t exist, such foolishness is unnecessary. Marriage, as it’s called today -- or better said – the blessing ceremony, means nothing more than society’s conformity with such acts. If another society accepted by custom the free union of the sexes it’s clear that it would agree with free unions and it would be a done deal. Many women and many men would not stop uniting freely if they were unafraid of others’ criticisms, for only this holds them back. Thus, let us let people do as they please and let us do as we please so long as we don’t harm anyone.

With respect to the fear of punishment inhibiting matrimonial infidelity, we don’t feel that this sophism is even worth arguing against. Everyone acknowledges that this “transgression” can take place nine hundred and ninety-nine times out of a thousand without the authorities, the law, etc., finding out. Moreover, we believe that the person who remains faithful to a commitment she undertook deceived under fear, or under some other form of obligation, is in a sense already “unfaithful,” besides, it would be better if she were, that is, if she left, given that if she desires a different man or woman, it’s clearly because she doesn’t want the person to whom society forces her to share her food and shelter, which, if it is not prostitution, is very, very close. For, to do so it is necessary that she fake love for whom she only hates, that she deceives and becomes a hypocrite, that she gives herself over, in the end, to that which she detests. This being so, it’s natural that it would not take long for disagreements, unpleasantness, and a thousand other things that embitter the life of both partners.

If they were free in their actions, this would not happen, and, on the contrary, if they had the level of culture that our future society will boast.

In the next issue I’ll speak about divorce as it is practiced today, warning our women comrades and men comrades that this being a communist-anarchist newspaper, it is at the disposal of everyone, and it asks of everyone what they can and want to help with, be that intellectually or materially, and the more efforts that might be undertaken on its behalf, the more issues we shall be able to publish.

Being women, we undoubtedly are not as known amongst our men comrades as we wish; and so with this in mind, we ask: from each according to their strengths. Long live anarchism! Long live the social revolution! Long live free enterprise! Long live free love!

The woman in contemporary society is the victim destined to caprice, to the passions, to the twists, to the tyranny of men. Nothing is more unjust than the artificially established equality between man and woman. It begins with giving her a very limited education; continues with domestic life, where the woman is destined to serve the man; then on the social scale, woman is considered inferior to man, unworthy of anything at all; this is all to keep the woman in a state of economic and moral dependence upon man. Imperfect (and worse) education, differences in work, more or less degrading than what he is destined for, that the most miserable salary, and the prostitution that awaits her when she finds no one to watch over her existence.

There exists no more tragic situation than that of a poor girl; the occupations she finds are few, and many times they lead to her perdition. But this is not all – to cure her physical existence, to love and be loved, to find a confidante, to enjoy the delights of life she accepts the hand of the first suitor; but simple, naïve, loyal, she devotes her entire life to his happiness. Yet she finds nothing but deceit, selfishness, perfidy, abuse of her slightest weakness; man has nothing but irony and contempt. And the woman, torn by the need to love and having lowered her dignity, out of an instinct for self-preservation, then becomes distrustful, cunning, hypocritical, closed-off, and deceitful. Her innocence has disappeared, every moral feeling lost; driven out by all the blame society heaps on her; she finds nobody who can bring her relief from her pains, thus, in this miserable situation, there is nothing left but sex work.

How many have there been who, having fought until the end, took their own lives?

Many others have been forced by the current conditions to withdraw from social life. Abandoned by their parents who, in agreement with society at large, judge them guilty.

And faced with this spectacle, you bourgeoisie attribute sex work, the origin of vice and corruption, to a certain number of individuals from both sexes; and affirm that if these people had not been born, sex work would not exist.

There are a number of individuals who live off of sex work, using any means to drag their victim into the abyss; sex work having become a form of [economic] speculation like any other. Out of all the industries, this is the most abject, the most lucrative.

There are places specifically dedicated to prostitution, where a shameful girl or woman leaves her address ready for the call of any customer… an army of brokers and commissioners are employed in this ignominious industry, bringing with them the desperation and pain of so many families by prostituting their daughters.

That’s right, bourgeois Gentlemen! It is not vice or corruption that is the origin of prostitution, but rather your infamous regime and your iniquities. You bourgeoisie are the cause! By keeping women in ignorance and believing they are weak, by dictating laws harmful to women, by making the unaware populace believe that the female sex is inferior to the male, you have consequently educated them according to your will and convenience.

Bah! Is this what civilization is, bourgeoisie? Bah! This is progress? Lies! This isn’t progress, but rather a barbaric and regressed time.

Oh, women of the populace! Don’t you see what muck the bourgeoisie has tossed you into? If you have any self-awareness, rebel against these parasites of today's society and show humanity that you are strong and not weak as your enemies would have you believe.

Fight together with those desired by fortune, with the conscious workers, because these are your true friends, because one day not far off you will be able to throw off this yoke that you have endured for so many centuries, due to your ignorance and to the religious ideas instilled in you by the masters of your conscience, the cause of your perdition.

When you have rebelled against this hypocritical institution, then you will be anarchists, and you will understand that Anarchy is your salvation, and you will fight with us so that the day of redemption will come soon and the flag of the future will shine on all humanity standing in unity upon the barricade of the social revolution...

Only then will your slavery be over, and you will shout with all the strength of your being:

Long live our Emancipation!
Long live the free Union!
Long live Anarchy!

The woman in the present society is the victim destined to tantrums, to passions, and, more often than not, to the tyranny of man. None is more unjust than the artificially inequality stability between man and woman. It starts with giving them a very limited education; it continues then with domestic life, where the woman is destined to service of the man; later in the social scale, the woman is considered inferior to the man, unworthy of whatever thing there is; all this to maintain the woman in a state of economic and moral dependence to the man. The imperfect and awful education, the difference of the work, more or less degrading, that is destined to them, the salary most miserable and the prostitution that waits for her when she does not find he who is vigil of her existence.

***

There does not exist a situation more tragic than that of a poor girl; the jobs that she finds are few, and many times are weaves stretched for her damnation. But this is not all; to take care of her own physical existence, she comes that to love and to be loved, to find someone to confide herself, to be content with the delicacies of life; but simply, naïve, trustworthy, accepts the hand of the first that solicits it, devoting herself entirely the life to his happiness. But she does not find other than deceit, egoism, calculation, to abuse her lowest weakness; and the man does not keep that irony and disdain. And the harsh woman for the necessity to love and lower her dignity, for instinct of conservation, becomes then untrustworthy, astute, hypocritical, hiding her emotions and deceiving. Innocence is vanished, every moral sentiment, lost; disconnected from everything the society attributes to them the blame; she does not find any that brings them solace to their pains; so fighting in this miserable situation, nothing remains but to prostitute themselves.

Who are those that fighting until the end, are removed from life?

Many others, obligated by the present environment, have retreated from society because abandoned by their own relatives, that together to society, believes it guilty. And in front of this spectacle, you bourgeoisie, attribute prostitution, origin of vice and of the corruption of a certain number of individuals of both sexes, and you affirm that if these were not born, prostitution would not exist.

There are for you a number of people that train in prostitution, helping themselves to whatever may be half, to throw the victim into the abyss; being this speculation became presently like all the others.

Of all the industries, this is the most despicable, the most lucrative.

There are to you houses especially consecrated to prostitution, where the shameful girl or the woman, leave their address to be ready to be called to some customer… an army of brokers, of commissioners, are employed in this ignominious industry, bringing with him the desperation and the pain of so many families, prostituting their daughters.

It is so, Misters Bourgeois! It is not vice or corruption that is the origin of prostitution, if not other your infamous regime and your iniquities. Your Bourgeoisie are the cause! Maintaining the woman in ignorance and in the belief of her weakness, dictating laws noxious to the woman, making believe the unconscious people that the feminine sex is inferior to the man, as consequence, you have educated her according to your will and convenience.

Ah, is this what they call civilization, oh Bourgeoisie? Ah! They call this progress?

You lie! This is not called progress, but rather a barbarous and regressive time!

Oh, women of the people! Do you not see in what dirt the Bourgeoisie has thrown you?

If you have consciousness of yourselves, you rebel against these parasites of the present society and you show to humanity that you are strong and not weak as your enemies want to make them believe.

Fight together with the desires of fortune, with the conscious workers, because are your real friends; because a day not far away you can emancipate yourselves of this yoke that for so many centuries you have supported, owed to your ignorance and to religious ideas that have instilled in you the rulers of your consciousness the cause of your damnation.

When you will rebel against this hypocritical institution, then you will be anarchists, and you will understand that Anarchy is your salvation, and you will fight with us because it may be near the day of the revival and the flag of the future may shine in the entire humanity planted on the barricade of the social revolution!...

Only then, your slavery will be finished, and you will shout with all the force of your guts:

Long live our emancipation!

Long live the free union!

Long live anarchy!

An ironing lady

Might it be possible, that you have never realized what you are, and should be?

Have you not yet grasped, the supremely sad and repugnant role you play when you go, like miserable idiots, to those squares, on those pilgrimages, to those military parades, etc. where you are despised and mocked in a thousand and one ways?

Have you not realized, poor deluded ones, the derision with which you are looked at by those who rob you?

Have you not seen how they stand apart from you, wherever you might show yourselves -- they whom you support and sustain in a thousand ways with your sweat, to whom you give your life, like the sun gives light, as fire gives heat?

Go, yes, poor people, as they refer to you, go to entertain the butcher, go enliven their parties, go be the object of our exploiters’ laughter, go to collect the denigrating phrases with which they name you.

Go to the cathedral to contemplate slack jawed the exuberant, hydropic vitality of the bloodsuckers of the working class; go to contemplate the hypocritical face of those who call us lambs; go, with a sharp eye and an attentive ear, to hear the thousand phrases of the refined hypocrisy of a friar, be he a Castillian swine or a Jaran mastiff.

Go be the mockery of that insatiable beast, of that insatiable hyena, of that cancerous rodent, of that poisonous reptile who is called, to say it straight, the “Bourgeoisie,” a word that perhaps you don’t understand, because it includes everything nefarious, all the infamous, every most disgustingly repugnant imaginable thing that can be conceived by the perverted and bloodthirsty brain of a…man!

Go, but at the very least, be aware of the sad, yes, the very sad role that you will play.

Look, do you see those things they call “religious festivals?,” those with colors and crests? Well, that is the “official balcony,” did you know? Well, there, you are not allowed, they won’t allow you entry, for your clumsy ways, your rough hands (which sustain them), they can’t, nor should they (they say), shake so-and-so’s fine and gloved hand…Bourgeois (puff), of such and such dolled up noblewoman… did you know, little burgess, that you are disregarded and elicit disgust. Do you understand? Disgust!

Do you see that? Look: that which is called soap stick? Well good, that stick is placed there for you, for the workers, you know why? To let them laugh at our clumsy manner, yes, to see us struggle, when we try to reach up towards the miserable prize that refined Bourgeois “gentility” offers us.

Oh! You are hungry! Because of the face of a bourgeois! Expropriate, kill all of that, it’s good and natural, but we must never renounce being men, to be monkeys or puppets instead!

Look at that brother, that comrade of ours, do you see how hard he struggles to climb up? Can you hear the laughter exploding vibrantly? Ah! It’s the beast, it’s the bourgeoisie that delights as a pig delights in mud, as the judge before twenty wretched victims he hopes to send to the scaffold, yes that fierce bourgeoisie, it delights in seeing us, so brutish, so foolish, and thinking: so long as there is such bestiality, I fear nothing and no one.

Have you seen, or heard, how the hyena rolls over shaking, delirious with enjoyment, having sunk its teeth in its victim’s guts as it contemplates its powerlessness, inhaling with anticipating delight the blood vapors as it rolls around in it?
Haven’t you heard it said how the little prince grips his exuberant belly with his dainty hands, laughing convulsively, “royal” lips drooling, gazing with a face still blue and contorted by laughter at the aching face of the wretched buffoon, whom he’s just given a “real” whipping?

Well, in that same way, and with the same noble sorrow, they laugh at that wretched comrade, that is, at us.

But come, do you see that pale and emaciated creature, the face weak and the body lean, tossed, so to speak, into a cycle of stupidity? Do you see it? See its little hat, with refined “art” in front of him, do you see him moving his tender hands shaking without end that hoarse and rasping tool or accordion? Do you hear that music that makes some laugh and others clap? Do you hear it? Well, that music is hunger’s music! That pleasure demands your charity, and those delicate and tender fingers that you see fluttering and feverishly pressing the keys should instead hold a pencil and work at something better, more suited to the age of the person handling them.

But, what, he who you see as still a child (we saw him, he may have been six or seven) has parents perhaps and they feel coerced to send him begging by that society (full of virtuous ladies): that’s how expensive subsistence is! That’s how little they earn!

And tomorrow, a man already, he who today grows like a parasitic plant and lives off public charity (may it be damned) far, very far from the maternal caresses, delivered to himself after having spent the first phase of his life a miserly helot, what will he do when he finds himself without bread, without home, without love? What will he do?

Kill, perhaps. Oh; In that case yes! Society will then throw itself upon him with fury, an incarnate beast, and will send him to a deep and fetid dungeon, at that point yes, this decrepit and corrupted society will have laws, judges and executioners with which to render justice and punishment! And who, I ask, who will punish the society for having stolen the kid’s father, and from the child himself the means of sustenance and education? Who will consider the actions of society to judge, who between society and the child, is criminal? Oh, dynamite! How much rot is there to remove and extirpate!

But enough. Come my brother, come comrade, come, let’s head to that Cathedral at whose doors you and others go to open your mouth, let’s go and I’ll explain what happens there.

You see it, as do I, as does everyone, that we workers are forbidden entry, we are not human, and it’s necessary for us to stick by the gates with the horses; and what? Are we by chance something more than a horse to the bourgeois? No, on my own life, we are but an object of exploitation and service, like a pair of boots or an umbrella, but less, but much less appreciated than a horse or a car; and if you think not, take a look and you will see how they take care of and cover the luxurious trunks in wintertime, while you and I, and all the workers, go seminude, tattered and stiff with cold with our faces gaunt and our stomachs empty, to our dumbfounding jobs.

Do you see? There’s a national holiday today, the squares brimming with unhappy men, who look more like scarecrows, gaunt and skinny as they are. Do you see them, with those costumes and those tools, meant not for work but for death, upon their shoulders? Do you see them, with that colored rag tied to a stick? What do they look like? What could they be? Insane perhaps? No, they are men that the moral and tender bourgeois mercy counts on to give you lead when you ask for bread, and to defend the product of theft enacted day to day upon you, me, and all workers! Oh! And to think these men are our brethren! They should realize it, at least, and that they are enemies to those of us who must greet them with explosions! Damn the society that so forces us, let your regime soon roll and with it the heads of so much of the infamous butcher of humanity!

Look my brother – do you see how the myriad of innumerable candles shine, reverberating in a thousand shimmers? They burn at your expense, and the warmth and clarity they offer goes missing from your home, in the sad and cold winter nights…but listen, do you hear that signal? It’s broadcasting that the gloved rogues who have been beating themselves on their chest in order to better fool you, so that we might imitate them and be caught off guard so they can satiate their bloodlust upon us, their lust on our daughters, and upon our sons their brutal passion for pederasty and sodomy!

Listen, their call rings out and all those mummies or soldiers present their weapons, as if signaling their willingness to kill us for defending them. Do you see them? There they come, get a good look at them, they are all parasites, vampires, thieves and drones of the social hive.

Do you hear? They speak; listen “brother!” They address you as brother! And they are full and you are hungry.

“…the glorious flag of the motherland…” They speak of the motherland, and he whom you see clapping ravenous fury will within a couple of hours be demanding your room’s rent, and woe to you if you don’t have anything to pay with; you, your children, your partner, and their relatives will be put on the street in patriotic confusion.

“…This glorious day…” They call this day glorious because they see us humiliated at their feet, mocked and hungry and they rejoice for that.

See them! There is the bishop with the general, the priest with the congressperson, congratulating one another on their work, that is, on our stupidity.

Let’s go workers, let us leave and never return to such festivities, or better said – mockeries, in which we are humiliated and looked down upon so much as to be called brothers. Let’s go because for them we are the plebes coming to the flag show, for the music, for the rubbish!

Let us go, and when we return let us be ready, with dynamite in our hand ready, and then we’ll see that whole cowardly crew flee, who flee at the dawn of a new day, the spectres that the nightmare of a horrible dream forged overnight!

The nightmare is the bourgeoisie. The new day: Anarchy!

Hooray, for it!
Death to exploitation!
Long live anarcho-communism!
Long live free entreprise!