A poem for South America
She came from Baja Verapaz,
from the mountains of Rabinal,
where the Spanish never came.
Out of a people that kept the Maya's rich traditions.
In her eyes
that looked at me easy
was written the complete royalty of an honorable people.
And the patience of a people
that has carried a lot
and still carries much
Because in the end
carries the structure of Guatemala as such.
It is the Indian that harvests the coffee
and cuts the sugar and the white caton blossoms
of the thorney plants
for hours in the sun.
The Indian goes to the Atlantic
for the banana fields of chiquita
Made in the USA or the EU.
To the Pacific
for the lands of the money wolves
Made in Guatemala.
And goes back slowly
the long way
In his pocket some hard made cash
in his blood the deadly malaria
and the diseases of the Costa.
And than you say to yourself
how long must this damn slavery exist?
How long will the wold consience still go to sleep
in the rest of it's own hapiness
own on the sweat
and the blood
of honest, simple people?
Than I tell you
brother and sister
-Poem for South America by Walter Aelvoet, Belgium, 1976.
(Translated for A-Revolt from Dutch into English 2014.)