page 20

A Militant's Poem

Mother
I have a gun of iron
your own son
he whom one day you
saw
chained
(and wept
as though the chains
had bound
and cut
your own hands, your
own feet)
your son is free now,
Mother
your son has a gun of
iron My gun
I will shatter all the
chains
I will open all the
prisons
I will destroy all the
tyrants
I will give the land back
to our people.
Mother, it is beautiful
to fight for freedom
in every bullet I shoot,
there is a message of
justice
and old dreams wake
like birds,
In the hour of combat,
in the battle front
your image comes
close to me
It is for you too I am
fighting,
Mother,
that you should not
have tears in your
eyes.

Jorge Rebello