United Self Defense Forces Of Colombia » Fuerzas Armadas Revolucionarias De Colombia
Virgin of the Mercedes & A Dusty Day in Cajas (In English and Spanish)
Parade (9-24-2006)
Virgin of the Mercedes
The city was full of sounds
And great bands from the parade.
And the many feet that marched (soldiers and all)
Trampled abreast, down the streets,
And I, I saw, within this sea of events
The bodies and souls of the Huancainos
(and their proudful spirits).
And down through the streets they went
Brass shining, white and green hats,
Till the sun was sharp in my face,
And pure and warm in its sweep;
And, from the dome of the cathedral
Of Huancayo, hundreds walked to and fro
Praying to Mary of Mercedes:
As the parade faded,
In the afternoon.
Note 1: Reference is made to the Air Force Day Parade in the Plaza de Arms, in central Huancayo, also known as the day of Mary (or Virgin) of Mercedes.
Note 2: Dedicated to the Huancayo Armed Forces #1481 9-24-2006.
Spanish Version
Desfile (24-Sep-2006)
Virgen de las Mercedes
La ciudad estaba llena de sonidos
Y grandiosas bandas del desfile.
Y los muchos pies que desfilaron (de soldados y todos)
Pisaron a fondo, calles abajo,
Y yo, yo vi, dentro de este mar de acontecimientos
Los cuerpos y las almas de los Huancaínos
(y sus espíritus orgullosos).
Y a través de calles abajo ellos fueron
Instrumentos de metal brillando, sombreros blancos y verdes,
Hasta que el sol fue agudo en mi cara,
Y puro y caliente en sus cambios;
Y, desde el domo de la catedral
De Huancayo, cientos caminaron de un lado a otro
Rezando a María de las Mercedes:
Mientras el desfile terminaba,
Por la tarde.
Nota 1: Este poema se refiere al Desfile del Día de las Fuerzas Aéreas en la Plaza de Armas, en el centro de Huancayo, también conocido como el Día de la Virgen de las Mercedes.
Nota 2: Dedicado a las Fuerzas Armadas de Huancayo. # 1481 24-Sep-2006.
6)
A Dusty Day in Cajas
(Part One: the poem)
I couldn’t see clearly
down the old Inca Road—
in Cajas, (Huancayo) by the
old prison ruins—El Obraje,
(on Puna Mountain)
but I knew it was long—I
suppose.
Said I,
“There are perhaps old bones
or spirits at its end,”
the how or why of it all
who knows, the Spanish took
many prisoners back then.
Nonetheless,
I had to reach it (reach the end)
for the thrill of it, I
suppose:
—
and when I did
(did reach its end),
it was as I thought:
somber-grand
with so much unknown.
The Prison Cell
(Part Two)
(The Crescendo) I stood in those ancient prison cells where the Spanish incarcerated the rebellious Wanka and Inca populace of the Mantaro Valley (in the 1500s), and here is what I felt:
I was drifting into my own grave, descending, is more like it, into the upper bowels of the earth, into a past darkness that was so dense, it constricted my breathing. I stumbled a bit, from wall to wall; saw hard black eyes (they moaned)—.
The decay that took place among the living of its day, were huddled in darkness: they were to die here, and they knew it.
(11-30-06)) 1554 & 1557)) Dedicated to Mauro Rosales and Karina Rojas, who live in Cajas; for they took me on a Saturday morning and afternoon into its wondrous hillsides, in November of 2006; took me I say, trekking the mountain side (Puna Mountain, as they called it); as we explored the Inca Road and old Wanka prison cells, along with other geological landscape.
See Dennis' web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com
Source: www.articletrader.com