LIKE PEOPLE elsewhere, Vietnamese sometimes use poetry to express political intent. The following poem--recently, published by the National Liberation Front--appears to mark an important turning point: the NLF has decided to go on the offensive against Thieu's maneuvers to sabotage the peace agreement.

For the last year, the Front has contented itself with ripostes against incursions and non-stop artillery attacks by Thieu's troops, and protests against Thieu's unwillingness to abide by the 1973 peace agreement and release his approximately 10,000 political prisoners. Now, the Front appears determined to take a more active strategy.

The Saigon government's situation continues to deteriorate. Earlier this year, there were reports of suicides among pedicab drivers and other common people in Thieu-controlled areas because of their inability to support their families. Although Thieu will require massive infusions of American aid to survive, as the American ambassador in Saigon recently noted, these funds will not come easily. Some conservative Congressmen have recently been shocked by their belated discovery that the Pentagon has been funneling monies illicitly to the Thieu regime for years.

Footprints

by Chim Trang

I took a rest on that roadside,

Tossing about, listening to spring

To twittering birds flitting by with the wind,

To the thuds of footsteps on a long march...

I looked at that road and felt a great love for roads.

I looked at the footprints on it and felt a great love for the feet

Who were hurrying all over the land

With unwont fleetness...

There seems to be a powerful magnet in front of you

Whom Spring on the roadsides cannot induce to linger.

Oh dear Liberation fighter

Under whose feet even grass grows tender...

Is it true that your heart each morning and evening

Seems seared by napalm scars,

When you see in your mind's eye

Raven locks spread on garbage?

Is it true that when Uncle Ho transfuses blood from Viet Nam's heart into you,

It gives your legs the strength of four thousand years of history

And your feet can trample on the Pentagon

And leave there the-mark of peace, Freedom and independence?

The (sky) blows down gusts of icy wind.

But cannot cool the warmth of thousands of footprints in the forest.

I wish I could be a grain of sand on the vernal road

And stick to your foot and go with you into action.

The poem appeared in the February 11 issue of South Viet Nam in Struggle, a weekly publication of the Front.