Bajo el arco del sol, la lucha armada
Silvio Rodriguez
Under the Sun Arch, the Armed Struggle
Today I walked on the side of another hatred
where the world roams and I when I am,
and I saw reality under a storm.
I knew that through my wound other blows were bleeding me
and other rages as well,
and I saw reality kneeling in front of the sea.
Look at my wound on the hand pulsating with death
and hear the fire uncovered in the voice.
Look at my wound from other regions like Indochina,
under the sun arch.
Today I divided my tears by colors,
dimensions and distances
and it was like the Mekong and I, so separated.
I am dying from living sitting in the unreachable distance
perhaps:
I want to forget my voice,
hang guitars in the sun.
I want a shot
and dress myself as human
in this fate and accompany myself with a bone of flower.
I want life; if not, death,
serenading under the sun arch.
