La Ventana
Patricio Manns
The Window
I looked at your face through the window
and in a firm cradle
heavy sleep was summoned
to cover you,
ay, ay, ay,
to cover you.
Time after time I took care of you
through the window
where the books letter by letter*
were delivered to you,
ay, ay, ay,
were delivered to you.
How many windows does life have,
how many windows,
who would believe it!
Through the window that the student
sadly watches
one day you heard the burning voice
of the guerrilla,
ay, ay, ay,
of the guerrilla.
And another window - later on -
gave you confinement,
and instead of glass it had fingers
of black iron,
ay, ay, ay,
of black iron.
How many windows does life have,
how many windows,
who would believe it!
You cut the iron, jumped the wall,
ran outside,
and the gunfire turned my blood
over the earth,
ay, ay, ay,
from your veins.
So deep sleeps under the stone
the child son,
but in the guerrilla's fight
living proudly,
ay, ay, ay,
I see him.
With every fallen man, hour after hour,
the liberating struggle grows.
* In the version edited in
