Today I heard you were leaving.
I felt sad, partings are sad,
But I also knew you were arriving,
you were arriving with renewed strength
among village people,
among the oppressed.
You were arriving with the life
that death gives to those who fight,
because those who die
in the arms of a grateful people
as the Poet might say
“The heaven opens, the world dilates
and life begins at last with dying”.
You sowed hope,
we must tend it, we must feed it with sweat and dew,
we must clear
so that may grow and flourish
your warlike branches,
your tree of dreams.
Lidia Turner - Cuba
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