Havana to all pain: Elegy of the white zapaticos

ELEGIA OF THE WHITE ZAPATICS

I come from the swamp,
strong> I bring a bunch of anecdotes
deep, that I entered by the trunk of the blood the root of crying.

Hear me the sad story
of the white zapatists ...
Nemesia-
He grew up with bare feet.
He even broke the stones with the stones of his calluses!

But he always had the dream
of some white zapaticos. I saw them so far!
Like that blue star < / strong>
who in the vacant twilight
opened his celestial flower
on the pain of the swamp. One day, he came to the swamp
something new, unexpected,
something that led the light
to old shipwrecked forests. It was the Revolution,
It was the sun of Fidel Castro,
It was the triumphant road / strong> About the mud hell.
They were co-operatives
coal and fish.

A haunting of coins
in the hands coal, strong
All in all, all hands.
Alba of letters and numbers
About flaring coal.

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How cute was Sunday
Nemesia with her shoes!
But Monday ... woke up br> Under a hundred thunders of fright!

About your guajira house
furious birds flew.
>
were mercenary vultures.

Nemesia saw falling dead
to his mother. Saw
Bleeding his brothers.
You saw a hurricane of shots
boring the lilies
of your white zapaticos.

I screamed tragically:
Damn the mercenaries!
Ay, my brothers! Oh, mother!
Alas, my white zapaticos! If the mothers are giving Free and brave children
they die under the terror
of my bombs. Who has seen
coalmen with shoes! But Nemesia does not cry.
You know that the militiamen
broke the traitors

>
that his mother killed. You know nothing in the world -
- ni yanquis or mercenaries -
country
this sun that is shining,
for all girls
have white shoes! >

Jesus Orta Ruiz (The Indian Naborí)

  • Adam Floyd