The Poet

Hail to thee, Oh fleeting star.
Dazzle the world in thy brief moment,
Exploding with vigor, sharp and jubilant,
Sieging the ramparts with fiery revolution,
Scourge of the oppressor,
Wisest of all in counsel,
Untainted in spirit.
Sing out in the shrillest and sweetest sounds.
“Fidel, Cabral”
Amidst anarchy, walled in doom.
Brightest of all our hopes, our desires
Purest of all, stone-willed bastion
Never tempted by self nor wealth
To thee we bow
Lovers not
Yet comrades in battle.
Nevermore shall we mourn thee.
Let not death defeat us!
Your heart shall pump within us;
And through us, you will triumph.

Ever onward, black warrior, ever onward
Heed not death knocking at your door
T’is but an echo of tomorrow’s journey
Spur thy great steed onward,
Across the dregs and over the mires,
Singing out in the shrillest sounds
Venceremos Patria o Muerte

Ride on, ride on, across the misty forest
Into the fiery sea,
Nevermore to gallop amidst us.
Rider on with thy splendid steed.
We shall not mourn thy passing;
Death will not defeat us.
Your heart shall pump within us;
And through us, you will triumph.

Turn out the lamps and wail through the night.
Weep, weep for thy shadow now gone.
As bleeding sorrow drenches our bones
To dam our spirit in that doomed box.
So thy minions gather, woe-wrecked with groaning grief.
Listen, perhaps they hear the echo of thy passing,
“Thundering hooves prancing through the suburbs,
Misty rider shrouded in victory.”
Fools! Who forever mourn, do they not know?
Through their lives, still you might yet live.
Nevermore shall we mourn thee;
Death shall not defeat us.
Your heart shall pump within us;
And through us, you shall triumph.

Hail to thee, Black Spartan,
Cast your mold of fiery rebellion.
Forge the new man,
Molded in love, cast in iron
To crack the chains of tyranny.
For you, Friend of friends, life’s worth dying.
Though dying, ride on, ride through
The decay of those who fear to live.
Rage furiously towards thy tragic end.
Yes, Comrades of comrades, embrace death with a kiss.
Sparkling eyes, now stilled, weep a tear for us;
Yes, weep for us who perish.
For in death, you triumph as in life.
Your heart pumps within us;
And within our children unborn.