A Guerrilla’s Word
Because my
country is beautiful
like a sword in the air
and bigger now and even
still
more beautiful,
I speak out and defend it
with my life. I don’t care what
traitors
say
we’ve blocked the way
with thick tears
of steel.
The sky is
ours.
Ours our daily bread.
We’ve sown and harvested
the wheat and the land,
ours too and always ours
the sea,
the jungles
and the birds
