Tomorrow Triumphant

FREEDOM
For you,
so many blows
have gathered
on our skin
that even standing
we do not fit
death.

In my country,
freedom is not only
a delicate breath from the soul
but physical courage as well.
On every millimeter
of its infinite landscape
your name is written:
freedom.
On  tortured hands.
On eyes opened
to the amazement
of grief.
Upon the forehead
when it flutters with dignity.
In the chest
where an enduring man
grows within us to greatness.
On the back and feet
Which suffer so much.
In the testicles,
proud of themselves.
There, your name,
your soft and tender name
singing with  hope and courage.

We have suffered
in so many places
the blows of  torment
and written in so little skin
your name so many times,
that now we can’t die
because freedom is deathless.

Of course,
they can continue beating us,
if they can.
Freedom,
you will always be victorious.
And when
we fire
the last shot,
Freedom,
you will be the first
to sing in the throat
of my countrymen
because
there is nothing more beautiful
on the face
of the earth
than a free people
standing bravely
upon a system
Which is ending.

And so,
Freedom,
dreams and keeps vigil.
We enter night
or arrive at day,
softly enamored
of your beautiful name:
freedom.

  • trans. by Barbara Paschke and David Volpendesta