The Beautiful Struggle: Cuba’s Other Revolution

 

Those who received news of the beginning

galaxies, the vast emptiness,

today are fossil light. beautiful paradoxes.

Severo Sarduy

 

The moon that traveled with Cyrano de Bergerac;

the moon Quevedo clapped within a fine and bloody epitaph;

Lorca’s moon with its bustle of tuberoses, sinking into the forge; the haiku moon, unable to compete with a river rock’s

false gleaming. These moons are dearer and more familiar
than that lone moon hanging, solitary and perfect, like some invention of the night.

Carlos Pintado

 

 

 

I wish to leave the world by its natural door;

In my tomb of green leaves
They are to carry me to die.

Do not put me in the dark
To die like a traitor;
I am good, and like a good thing
I will die with my face to the sun.

Jose Marti

       

 

One sky, toward which we sometimes lift our eyes –
some days guessing at the weather of our lives,

Some days giving thanks for a love that loves you back.

We head home: through the plum blush of dusk, but always—home, always under one sky.

And always one moon
like a silent drum tapping on every rooftop.
At every window, all of us facing  stars.
Hope: a new constellation, waiting for us to map it,

Ricardo Blanco

 

 

Let us leave that heraldry,

water and thirst, tender and light, body and shroud.

Severo Sarduy

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Looks like you can teach an old …