Oh Khmers with black blood!
Now the eight-year Buddhist prophecy is being fulfilled.
Vietnam is the elder brother, Kampuchea is the younger.
If we do not follow the Vietnamese as our elder brothers,
There will be nothing left of the Khmer this time but ashes.
Oh! Khmers with black blood
Servants of the Chinese, killing your own nation.

Now you Americans have the upper hand
You must repay the Khmer quickly,
Because the Khmer have strived and struggled for a long time.
Don't bring the wicked B-52s to pay us back. That's not enough.
Bring atomic bombs. That is the repayment needed.
Because the Khmers are building one hundred houses at a time.

Oh! Khmers with black blood!
There will be nothing left of the Khmer this time but ashes.
Oh Damrei mountains! The timber is all gone now,
No forest, no rocks any more. There can be only ashes left,
Because the Americans are paying Kampuchea back with blood.
Only garlic remains.

A poem from Cambodia, written by Korb in 1978 under the Khmer Rouge, printed in "The Pol Pot Regime" by Ben Kiernan, pg. 435.

"This person formerly was normal in character. Then, over about ten days, he went crazy. He was taken to be cured in the subdistrict hospital. When he is alone, he is quiet, and doesn't say a word; if many people come in, first he begins to whistle and then he sings the following rhyme aloud".

Report to Comrade Uncle An, 8 July 1978