La Tombre Sin Nombre
The mother of plantains and holy thoughts
She shifted in the underbrush to avoid the
guerilla
soldier's gunfire.
Still, now she is bones and a cross
necklace.
"One day the evil will not rule and she will
rise."
Un dia el mal no va a globema y que se
elevara.
Elevara.
Elevara.
From the dust.
From the dirt..
No singing songs of mourning.
The song then a song fit for Lazarus and
for life
healed and returned.
The pure throat.
The innocent throat.
Oh, her beautiful black feet dancing once
again.
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