Once more they want to stain
my country with workers’ blood
those who talk of liberty
and whose hands are blackened
those who wish to separate
the mother from her sons
and want to reconstruct
the cross that Christ dragged.
They want to hide their infamy
their legacy from the centuries,
but the color of murders
cannot be wiped from their faces.
Already thousands and thousands
have sacrificed their blood,
and its generous streams
have multiplied the loaves of bread.
Now I want to live
beside my son and my brother,
daily working together on
a new springtime for all of us.
You can’t scare me with your threats
you masters of misery;
the star of hope
continues to be ours.
Winds of the people are calling me
winds of the people carry me
they scatter my heart
and take the breath from my throat,
so the poet will sing
as long as my soul sounds
from the roads of my people
now and forever.
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