Con La Adarga Al Brazo

You appeared in the mythology of my love
hand in hand with my mother
with a strange accent and an iridescent beret.
One day she told me you were no longer here
and her voice broke.

I learned your diary and your speaker's tricks
like the modern Bible
and with 'Che Comandante' and the 'Suite of the Americas'
I completed the rosary and the Hail Mary
of my religion.

Guevara, you return to the path with the shield on your arm,
painted on the sweaters of the boys
or watching from the wall.
That's why I carry you in my wallet as a good safeguard
or like the landlady, a saint's picture,
to protect me and pull my ears
if one bad day I forget about Che.

Your children ate the same bread I ate,
we went to the same school,
you lived with the people in the same condition,
that's why you're next to Camilo
and to the left of Changó.

And to those who use you as a sermon topic
and do the opposite
we won't allow them more speeches in your honor
or to use your portrait if they're going to preach
what they are not.