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Title: Struggle reflected through art program
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Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00078143/00001
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Title: Struggle reflected through art program
Physical Description: Book
Language: English
Creator: Latin American and Caribbean Poetry & Music
Publisher: University of Florida
Publication Date: 1983
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Bibliographic ID: UF00078143
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
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Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover
        Page 1
        Page 2
        Page 3
        Page 4
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
    Back Cover
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Full Text




"Struggle Reflected

(K Music

through Art"

Presented by CISPLA
Sponsored in conjunction with The Center for
Latin American Studies and the Dept. of
Romance Languages and Literatures
Funded by CLASSC

Dec.2.1983 8pm

University Auditorium
Free f


Opening Remarks:
Jon Jonakin, C. I. S. P. L. A.
Helen Safa, Center for Latin American Studies
Raymond Gay-Crosier, Dept. of Romance Languages and
Li tratur(s


"Balada 3" (poem) Andres Avellaneda (Argentina)
"Los Hermanos" (song) Atahualpa Yupanqul (Argentina)
"The Colonel" (poem) Carolyn Forche (Canada)
"Four Women" (dance) Caribbean Student Dancers (Caribbean)
"O operario en construpao"(poem) Viniclus de Moraes (Brazil)
"Verde Luz" (instrumental) Antonio Caban Vale (Puerto Rico)
"A Stone's throw" (poem) Jacob Ross (Grenada)
"Profecia de Urayoan" (dance) Roy Brown (Puerto Rico)
"Aymar warmitwa" (poem) Bertha Villanueva Alvarado (Bolivia)
"La canci6n del elegido" (song) Silvio Rodrfguez (Cuba)
"Revolucdin" (poem) Otto Rene Castillo (Guatemala)
"1937 Riots" (song) Pony "Mighty Gabby" Carter (Barbados)


"Cahler d'un retour au pays natal" (poem) Aaimn Cesaire
S v (Martinique)
"Pra nao dizer que nao falel das flores" (song) Geraldo Vandre
"El Manglar" (poem) Emilio Bejel (Cuba)
"Kumame" (dance) Caribbean Student Dancers (Caribbean)
"Notes towards a poem that can never be written"(poem)
Margaret Atwood .(Canada)
"Marfa" (song) Victor Jara (Chile)
"Los moments" (song) Violeta Parra&Victor Jara (Chile)
"Cantares acerca de la conquista (poem) Anonymous (Mexico)
"Lecturas de los cantares mexicanos" (poem)
Jose Emilio Pacheo (Mexico)
"Musica Folclorica" instrumental ) Anonymous (Venezuela)
"Ronda de Paz" (poem) Oscar Alfaro (Bolivia)
"Plenas" (song) Anonymous (Puerto Rico)
"A women's struggle" (poem) Merle J. Clarke (Grenada)
"Pega ladrao" (dance) Joao Tinoco (Brazil)


Andris Avellaneda (1937- ) Argentina
A los 15.000 deasparecidos de mi patria,Argentina.
A los desaparecidos de America Latina. A todos
ellos, que creyeron en mn future mas limpio,ain
hambre, sin analfabetismo, sin enfermedados. Con


Ha puesto su mano (iaqiuterda?)
a un costado
vienen aires de lluvia desde el snur
un phjaro ha reple.ado sus alas luego do im corto vuelo
amarillo su pico cerrado
cubierto de leves despojos
ha abhierto un poco los labios
a flor de tierra se dirfa otro hueco mOas
listo para la ceremonial
alisa la herba rala lsu apato (Iderecho?)
ha asomado su oecura cabeza brilliant el escarabajo
due'o de ese frarmento insolito
entire el cintur'n (ddesatado?)
y el fald6n de la camisa ( azul?)
ha cegrado los ojos (Iduerme?)
ha caldo el parp o do sobre el hueso
el saltamontes afila su pata
tituben en el rincon ((derecho?)
entire el cuello y los.pectorales
( rfgidos ya, apenas tibios?)
los jimcos se inclinan pesados de Iquido
sube baja el horizonte
suhfa bajaba (Mubi6, bajo?)
desde el nivel del rfo
un dedo (frndico, angular ) quiere cavar refugtio
reposa nobre el qluijarro
pardo terroso
ha renaado en ella el ellon alli
aqur cunndo donde (' siempre?)
ultima vision una gotLi sohrc el dorso de la mano (ctinl?)
(icuajada, frfa ya?)
hecha oemq
list para el olvido
(Lel reciierdo?) (Re.dor: Andlrps Avellneda)

Atahuapi Yuxuanrui

song (Perf

Andrcrc Avellnneda (1937- ) Argentn,
Dedicated to the 15.000 people missing in my
country, Argentina,and to-the mirsin, in Latin
America. To all of them, who believed in a-fair
future without hunger, illiteracy, or sickness.
With Justice.

Hns put a hand ( the left one?)
to one side
from the south the air comes mellinp of rain
a bird has folded its wings after a short flight
yellow its closed beak
covered with some remain
has opened the lips lightly
at ground level one would say one more hole
ready for the ceremony
smoothes the thin grass with a shoe (the right one?)
the solitary beetle has thrust out its dark shining h"-
master of this unusual fragment
between the belt (unfastened?)
and the shirt tail (blue?)
has closed eyes (sleeping?)
tho eyelid has fallen over the bone
the grasshoprer sharpens its leg
hesitating in the corner (the right one?)
between the neck and the pectorals
(already stiff, barely warm?)
the reeds bend heavy with liquid
rising and falling the horizon
was rising was falling (rose, fell?)
from the level of the river
a finger (index, ring?) wants to dig refro
resting over the stone
dark earthy
has thought about heritm them there
here when where (always?)
Inst vision a drop on the back of the hand (which one?)
(clotted, cold already?)
made a oem
rendy to be forgotten
(to bo remembered?)
(Translation byv C. Nichnls)


ormerr: Jorge Josse)


Carolyvn Vrchd. Canada
(El Salvador, May 1978)

What you have heard is true. I was in his hcuse.lis wife
carried a tray of coffee and sugar. His daughter filed
her nnils, his son went out for the night. There wore
daily papers, pet dogs, a pistol on the cushion beside
him. IThe moon swung bare on its black cord over the
house. On the television was a cop show. It was in
English. Broken bottles were imbedded in the wall
around lthe house to scoop the kneecaps from a man's
legs or cut his hands to lace. On the windows there were
grating,: like those in liquor stores. We had dinner,
rack or lamb, good wine, a gold bell was on the table
for canling the maid. The maid brought green mangoes,
salt, a type of bread. I was asked how I enjoyed the
country. There was a brief commercial in Spanish.
His wife took everything away. There was some talk then
of how difficult it had become to govern. The parrot
said hello on the terrace. The colonel told it to
shut up, and pushed himself from the table. My friend
said to me with his eyes: say nothing. The colonel
returned with a sack as is used to bring groceries
home. lH spilled many human ears on the table. They
were dried peach halves. There is no other way to
say thbi.. Ile took one of them in his hands, shook it
in our faces, dropped it into a water glass. It came
alive t.here. I am tired of fooling around he raid.
As for the rights of anyone, tell your people they
can go fuck themselves, lie swept the ears to the
floor with his arm and held the last of his wine in
the air. Something for your poetry, no? he said.
Some of the ears on the floor caught this scrap of
his voice. Some of the ears on the floor were
pres nd to the ground.

@ Pedquod,1978
(Reader: Julia Cruz)

Caribbean Student Dancers Caribbean


dance (Dancers: Caribbean Student


Vinicius de Moraes (1914-1980) iBasil Viniclius de Moraes (1914-1980) razil'

Era ale que erguia casas
Onde antes so havia chao. He wan the one who built hoi use
Como um passaro sam asas Where there was just ground before.
Ele subia com as csaas As a wingless bird
Que lhe brottvam da mao He went up with the houses
Mas hudo desconhecia That :,prung up from his hands.
De nua grande missao: But he ws not aware
Nao sabia,por exemplo Of his important mission:
lie did not know, for instance,
...Que a casa quo ele fazia
Sendo a sue liberdade ...That the house he built
Era a sua escravidio. Was at the same time, his freedom
De fato, como podia And his slavery,
Um operario em construpao Indeed, how could
Compreender por que um-tijolo A construction worker / a worker in the making,
Valia mais que umr pio? Understand why a brick was
More expensive than a loaf of bread?
...Ele desconhecia
Esse fato extraordinario: ...lHe did not know
Que o operario faz a coisa This extraordinary fact:
E a coisa faz o operario. That the worker makes things
De form que certo dia And things make the worker.
A mesa, ao cortar o pao So, one day
0 operario foi tomado While cutting bread at the table,
De ima subita emoeao The worker felt
Ao constatar assombrado A sudden emotion
Qu tudo nnquela mesa: As he recognized in amazement
-Carrafa, prato, facio- That everything on that table: .
Era ele quer os fazia... -Dottle, dish, knife-
Was made by him...
FRi, urn humilde operirio,
Um operario em conntrucio. lie was a humble worker,
Olhou cm torn: gamela, A construction worker / a worker in the making.
...Vidro, parede, njnela, lie looked around:bowl,
Casa, cidade napo!l -Tudo, tudo que existin... ...(;lans, wall, window,
Hlouso, city, nation! -Everything, everything around him..
...Ah, homes de pensamento, ...Oh, men of ideas,
Naouel abehumlde oerra quanto You will never know Ihow munch
TIln t humhle worker ..
Soube haquele momentol Learned then and there!
*..E um fato novo seo viu
Que a todos admirava ...And a new fact occurred.
O que o operario dizia Everybody was astonished.
Outro operario escutava. What was said by the worker
E foi assim que o operario Was listened to by another.
Do edificio em construcio And so, the worker in
Que sempre dizia im The tbllding under construction,
Comerou a dizer nao Who always said yes,
E aprendeu a notar colas Began to say no.
A que antes nao dava atenpRo: He learned to pay attention to certain things
Notou que a sua marmita He did not notice before:
Era o prato do patr5o, lie noticed that his lunch box
Que sua cerveja preta Was the employer's dish,
Era o uioque do patrlo That his dark beer
...Que adureza do sou dia Was the employer' whiskey
Era a note do patrao, .-ThIat the hardnesa of hid day
Que a sua enorme fadiga Was the employer'e night,
Era a amiga do ptrao. That his inmense fatigue
Was the employert1 frelndA


...*Mla seguinte, o operario
Ao nair da construcos
Viu-ino subito cercado
Don homens da delapio
E. nnfreu,por destinado,
Sua primeira agressao.
Tevo neu rosto cuspido,
Tevo neu braeo quebrado.
Mas quando fot porguntado
0 opnrario disso: "niol"

...~ontindo que a violencia
Nao dobruria o operorio,
lUr din tentou o patrao
Poh,r-lo de modo vrio.

... Fon-lhe esta declarapao:
-"li.r-te-ei todo poder
E a sua satisfacio.
l)ou- i tempo do lazer,
Dou-Lo tempo do mulher...
Portanito, tudo que vez
Sora teu se me adorarea
E, ninda mais, 5e abandonares
0 quo te faz dizer nao."

Dinso e fitou o operario / Que olhava o quo refletia:
Man o que via n operuriol 0 patrfio nunrt: vnria.
0 opor4rio via as cars
E drnitro das estruturan
Via colsas, objotos,
Produtos, manuraturas.
Vin tudo o que fazia
0 lucro do sou patrao
E em cada coisa que via
Mistnrlosamento havia
A marca de sua mao..
E o opcrario disse: "naol"
--"Loucura!" gritou o patrao-
"Nin vez o quo to dou eu?"
-"Mentlral" disse o oporarto-
"Nao podes dar-me o que e meu."

E u-m grande silencio fez-se
Dentro do seu coraieo.
Um allencio demartfrlos,
tUm silencio de prison
Um slloncio apavorado
Corn o medo em solidao
Um siloncio do torturas
E gritos de maldirdo.

...E o operarlo ouviu a voz
De todooso sous irmaos,
Os ceus irmnaos quo morreram
Por outros que viverao.

...E dentro da tarde mansa
Agigantou-se a razao
Do urn homom pobre o esquecido
naz~o porem queo lzera
Em oporario construido
0 operirio em consarupgfo,

@ldltora do Autor,196%

(hcnionfr Miry Cardca Castro)

...The next day,
As he left the construction site
The worker was surrounded
By the employer's guards
And ho received, as he had to,
Ilis first aggression.
Ills face was spit on,
His arms were broken,
But when they asked him
The worker replied: "no!"

...Since violence
Did not subjugate the worker,
One day the employer tried
To subdue him by another method.

..*The employer declared:
-"I will give you all the power,
Everything you want.
I will give youtime for leisure
I will give you time for women
So, everything you see
Will be yours if you worship me
And, specially, if you give up
What makes you say no?

Having said that, the employer glanced at the worker
Who was looking and thinking:
But what the worker was seeing
The employer would never see.
Tho worker saw the houses
And inside the structures
He saw things, objects,
Products, goods.
He saw everything that produced
The employer's profits
And in each thing he was looking at
lie misteriously saw
The sign of his hand.
And the worker sald:"nol"
--"It's crazy" the employer yelled
"Can't you see what I am giving you?"
-"That's a liel" said the worker-
"You cannot give what is already mine."
And there was a great silence
Insido his heart
A silence of martyrdom
A silence of prison
A frightful silence
With the fear of solitude
A silence of tortures
And terrible screams.

...And the worker heard the voice
Of all his brothers,
The brothers who died
For those who will live

...And in that calm afternoon
The consciousness of a poor and forgotten man was raised
But a consciousness that turned
A construction worker / worker in the making
Into an accomplished worker

(Translation by Hta.l'o P'nelrd)
..,: :


Antl toi Cat{n Valeo Puer to Ii'co


I instrumental piece

(Musician: Gilltrto Emi liaio do Pnz)

Jacob R{orz( .Grenada .
A :'.TNE': TIIREH -i

Swing mei high, :uil
Fling me hard, nah
Like 'rs t:,onq
Tn 'Ii hack ymrd
A' o monstah
Pl.nlt yuh r fot like true
in CubAi
An swing yuhl i:m' I tke Irnnch
FuIlI fruit
Sentt.r me far tic,'ara:lr'ul
Riding through i:t.orm to Jam.lnmai
BurniinR like stn in tGrtl,:,a
And El a ilvador?
El :.alvndor!

Yel! I fly to rfal like toin
Falling to brenk
(ntll red front the rirc:idt n' retribution)
Pem millitni gl-son wirldow
Da decorate di nhame n'
Size is no meoaure fro strutglr!

Swing me high, yes
Fling me ihrd, fron
Make me break that, foot,
(Haniti squirms like a worm
Under the hell a' de monster)
(Clile still eatin sihe children )
(Puerto Rico pukin from spikes in sho gits)
(Trinidad cstrvin she people on oil)
Mnk e me break an' burn
An'when [ donr
(Ino mre,din rtone, to tui.ld!

('} onpnnun ofr Itohe Hw Ilwn,1981

(1I:nd'.'r; lionna a'r'arl-?ne)

Roy Brown Puerto Rico


(Dancer: Mnrysol Ortega)

4 Disco Libre, Inc.

Bertha Villanueva Alverado( ) BoLi


Nayaxa, warm kankatajxa
unt astwa.
Narak chacha, narak warmiwa,
kawk"aisa sayt'asoa.

Nayatakixa, t"ayans lupinsa
kuna lurniisa
Janiw axsarktti.

Lupin t"ayan tinkt'ir yatititwa.
Jach'a qalas jach'a lawasa, nayankiwa.
Janiw kuns axsarktti.
Aymar warmitwa.

Jayarakiw lupa t"ays
Jayrakiw manq'ats jiwixa.
Aymar warmitwa,
Janiw axaarktti.

Mi wajchatakixa,
laws qalas areuriwa,
ni uks awsarktti.
Aymar warmitwa.

@Poemas en Tdioma Aymara,1981

(Reader: Yolanda Ipnoz)

via Bertha Villnnueva Alvarado( Bolivia


I am woman
I know myself.
I am all men, I am all women
wherever I stand.

For me the cold is as the heat:
whatever the work
all is one,
I fear not.
The heat, the cold these I know how to face.
Alike the big boulder, the big shovel, they are mine.
I fear nothing.
t am Aymara woman.

Only a lazy one of the heat and the cold
is afraid.
Only the lazy of hunger lres,
I am Aymara woman.
I fear not.

When I am an orphan
even boulders and shovels speak,
not even these do I fear.
I am Aymara woman.

Silvio Rodr fruz Cuba


song (Performer: Jorgo Jonse)


Otto Rened stillo (19?6-1967)


Los que no ven
non dlcon ciergos,
pero ifu non has ensenado
a ver el color
dol tiempo que viene.

Ins que no oyen
non dicon sordos,
pero tfu non has onsenrado
a escuchar en todas partes
el agil sonido
de la ternura humana.

Los cobardes nos dicen cobardes,
pero contigo nos enfrentrmos
a las sombras
y les cambiamos el rostro.
Los criminals nos dicon criminals,
pero contigo revivimos Ia esperanza,
le marcamos el alto al crime,
a la prostltucin,
al linmro.
Y lo ponemos ojos,
al coraz&n del hombre.
Los raci tas nos dicen antihumanoa,
puro contigo le damos al odio
nu taumba mundial
en In ciudad de los abrazos.

Non dicmn tantas cosas.
Y los que Ins pronmncimn
ol viden,
ost;pidons ue son,
que sun nietos
amLu'an manana
la palabra estrellada
do tu nombre:
OIobert Marquez,1974 (Reade:r;

Guatemala Otto hiene Cantillo (1936-1967)


Those who can't see
call us blind,
but you have shown us
how to see tie color
of the time to come.

Those who can't hear
call us deaf,
but you have chown us
how to hoar everywhere
the supple sound
of human tenderness.

The cowards call us cowards,
but with you we face
the darkness,
change its face.
The criminals call us criminals,
but with you we revive hope,
put an end to crime,
to prostitution,
And we give eyes,
a voice,
a soul,
to the heart of man.
The racists call us anti-human,
but with you we give hate
its universal tomb
in the city of embraces.

They call us so many things.
And those who say them
they are so stupid,
that tomorrow
their grandchildren
will joyously
fall in love with
the star-filled letters
of your nnme:

Kerri Nolan)

pony "Mighty Gabby" Carter

1937 RIOTS

I wnsn't born but me Gramma tell me
flow they had riots in dis country.
Great depression de people dem face
and so they riot and dey bun (burn) down de place.

And they had riots in de lan'
Riots in de lazn'
Riots in de lan' here in dis island
And de people an dem say da gun (going to) fight
cause "today is a funny night."
de people. dem say da gun fight
cause "todayvis a funny night."

Gua tema la

(translation by Robert Marquez)

(1949- ) Barbados

It wan in 1937.
Seems like de lan' was ruled by Satan,
innocent people police shot in dey hoad
And poor little children get kick till dey dead.

The reasons dey riot was wide and varied
dey couldn't get no food to feed dom babies
couldn't get na job if ya beg on ya knees
couldn't get no medicine ta cure dey disease,

The reasons I tell you die story is plain.
Cause I believe we gun riot again
iffin we leaders don't preach what is true
and find some work for my people ta do.

(Singers Margaret Gill) (Musicians Jorge Josse)


Almo Ce'saire (1913 ) Martinique

Partir. Mon coeur bruissait de generosites emphati-
ques. Partir... j'arriverais lisse et Jeune dans ce pays
mien ot Je dlrats h ce pays don't le limon entire aens la
composition de ma chair:"J'ai longtemps err6 et je reviens
vers la hideur desertee do vos places."
Jo viendrais a epays mien et Jo lui dirais: "Em-
brassez-mol sans crainte...Et sl Jo ne sais que parler,
c'est.pour vous que je parlerai."
Et je lul dirais encore:
n Ma bouche sera a bouche des malheurs qui n'ont point
de bouche, ma voix, la liberty dc cells qui s'affaissent
-, cachet du desespoir."
Et venaantJe e dirais "a moi-meme:
Et surtout mon corps ausa bien que mon amo, gardez-vous
de vous croiser lea bras en attitude sterile du specta-
teur, car la vie nest pas un spectacle,car une mer de
double u n'eatpas un proscenium,car un home qu crie nest
pas un oours qui dane ..."
Et voici que je suis venul...
... Ce qui est b moi,ces quelques miUiers de mortiferes
qui tournont en round dans la caleba'sse d'une te et ce
qui eat h moi aussi, learchipel arque come le d6sir
inquiet de se nier, on dirait une anxite maternelle
pour proteger la tenuit6 plus delicate qui spare l'une
de l'nrtre Amerique; et ses flancs qui secretant pour
l'Europe Ia bonne liqueur d'un Gulf Stream, et l'un des
deux versnnbs d'incandescence entire quoi l'hquateur
fimambule vers i'Afrique. Et mon Tie non-clOture,sa
claire audace debout h l'arribre de cetto polynesle.de-
vant elle, la Guadeloupe fendue on deux de sa rate dor-
sale et do meme minere que nousa,laiti ou la neritude se
mit debut por la premiere fois et dit qu'elle croyait a
son humanitei bt In comique petite queue de la Floride oiu
d'un n"'gre s'achev aIn strangulIntion,et l'Afrique gigantes-
qurtnentchenillmlt jusclui'au pied lil:panique die I'Europe,
sa nudite o1 nla Mort fauche a large andains...
... Ce qui est h mol aussi: un petite cellule dann le
une petite cellule, la nelge la double de
barreaux blancs
la neige eat un golier blanc qui monto
,la g.arde devant tune prison

Ce qui est a mot
c'est un homme soul emprisonne de
c'est un home seul qui defle les cris
blancs de La mort blanche
c'est un homme qui fascine 1'6pervier
blanc de la nmort blanche
c'est un homme seui dana la er infeconde
de sable blanc
c'est un moricaud vieux dress centre
les eaux du ciel
La mort decrit un cercle brillant au-
dessus do cet haonme
la mort etoilo doucement au-dessus de
sa tiLte

Aime Ce'saire(l913 ) Martinique


To flee. My heart was full of generous hopes.
To flee... I should arrive lithe and ycung in this
country of mine and I should say to this land whose mud
is flesh of my flesh: "I wandered for a long time and I
am returning to the deserted foulness of your wounds".
I should come back to this land of mine and say to
it: "Embrace me without fear... If all I do Is speak,
at least 1 shall speak for you".
And I should say further:
" My tongue shall serve those miseries which have no
tongue, my voice of liberty of those who founder in the
dungeons of despair ",
And I hbuId say to myself:
" And most of all beware,even in thought, of assuming
the sterile attitude cfthe spectator, for life is not a
spectacle a sea of griefs is not a proscenium,. ia
man who wails is not a dancing tlar...":
And now I am here again!...
Mine, these few thousand death-bearers who circle
in the gourd of an isle, and mine, too, the archipelago
bent like the anxious desire for self-negation as .if
with maternal concern for the most frail slenderness
separating the two Americas; and the womb which spills
towards Europe the good liquor of the Gulf Stream,
and one of the two incandescent slopes between which the
Equator funambulates torrlrd Africa. And my unfenced
island, its bold flesh urright at the stern of this
Polynesia; and right before it, Guadeloupe slit in two
at the d6rsal line, and quite as miserable as ourselves;
Haiti, where Negritude stood up for the first time and
swore by its humanity; and the droll little tall of
Florida where a Negro is being lynched, andAfrica
caterpillaring gigantically up to the Spanish foot of
Europe, it.. nakedness where denl.h cuts a wide swath...
,,, Also tine: a little cell in the Jurn mountains,
a little cell, the snow adds white bars, the snow a
white jailer guarding a prison cell
What is mine
A single e man imprisoned in whi to
A single man defying the white cries of white
A single man who fascinates the white hawk
of white death
A man alone in the sterile sea of white nand

An old darky facing the waters of the sky

Death describes a white circle above this man

Death gently stars his head

Death breathes madly in the ripe sugar-cane
of hi s arms
Death gallops in the prison like a white hprse

Death shines in the shadow like cats' eyes


la mort nouffle,folle, dans la cannaie
mure de sea bras
la mort galope dans la prison come
un cheval blanc
la mort luit dans l'ombre come des
yeux de chat
a mort hoquette come 1'eau sous les Cayes
ld mort eat un oiseau bless
la mort decrott
la mort vacille
la mort est un patyura ombrageux
la emort expire dans une blanche mare
de silence.
Gonflements do nuit aux quatre coins
de ce .petit matin
soubresauts de mort figRe
destiny tenace
cris debout de terre muette
la splendeur de ce sang n'eclatera-t-elle

Editions Presence Arricaine,1971

(Reader: nornadette Caller)

Geraldo Vandre Brazil


Caminhando e cantando e seguindo a camio
Somos todos iguais, braoos dados ou nio
nas escolas,,nas ruas, campos, construcpes
Caminhando e cantando e seguindo a cancdo,

Vem vamos embora qua esperar nao a saber
Quem sabe faz a hora nao espera acontecer.

Pelos campos ha fome em grandes plantacren
Pelas ruas marchando indecisos cordoes
Ainda fazem da flor seu mais forte refrao
E acreditam nas flores vencendo o canhao

Vem vamos embora que e perar nao e caber
Quem sabe faz a hora nao espera acontecer.

Hi soldados armados, amados ou nZo
Quase todos perdidos de armas na mao
Nos quarters lhes ensinnm uma antiga l1ao.
De morrer pola patria o viver sem raza'o

Vem vamos embora que esperar nao n saber
Quem sabe faz a hora nio espera acontecor

Nos escolas, nas ruas, campos, construpoes
Somos todos soldados armados ou nio
Caminhando e cantando e seguindo a canglo
Somos todos iguais bragon dados ou nao

Os amoreo no mente, as flores no chlIo
A certeza na frente, a historic na mafo
Caminhando e cantando e seguindo a canc~ o
Aprendendo e ensinando uma nova liqCb

(Siringedif dtqo Amadores bem
itntenclonados) *i
S(tealido Vandrc 196 v

Death hiccups like water under the Keys
Death is a hurt bird
Death wanes
Death vacillates
Death is an easily-offended t a
Death expires in a white swamp
of silence.
Swellings of night to the four corners of this
somersaults of immobile death
tenacious fate
cries erect on this mute earth
shall not the splendour of this blood hurst

GCraldo Vandre Brazil


Thin song is a severe criticism of the military i
government (installed in Brazil in 1964) calling for
all segments of the population to fight against the'
military's rule. Its lyrics speak of hunger among.
the peasants who work on large estates (latifundios).
It also asks the hippie movement to wake u p to what
was happening in the country and to stop believing ;
that only flowers can defeat the cannons and other
weapons of the regime. One of the strongest messages
is the integration of "the people and the soldiers."
The enlisted men are asked if they know for what they
are dying, if what they are taught in the barracks is
really worth it, and if they realize that workers,:
peasants and students are also their brothers.

Emillo Bejel (1944-



El padre Miguellito habnf rounido
a Los muchochos do doce ,6oos en la puerta de atrfin
de la iglteai
1Mnam me habfa recomondado
que me vistiera do knqul y me pustera unan botany viajas
qua ella me habri re galado un di a de Reyes
Il1 padre Miguelito nos dio a todos inntrucciones precisas
do, e6mo dar Ins Inlcclonos do catecismo
y do d6nde reuntrnon para ol regreso
Crizamos a pie el pueblo rumbo al mar
no habfamos caminado much
cunndo se anuncfo que etAb.unos en "El Manglar"
Ulnon muchachos mo dlljron lo que ya yo sabfa
quo "El Manglar" era el vtrrio de los poocadores de
Ibhfia un olor repugnante a area revuelta
y ol suelo estaba lnfmaiadlo
El padre Miguellto non rio llevando por entire las chozae
Lan mujeres saltin con amn ninos iamellcos
a mirarnos como srl f'urnmos de otro mundo
Los ninos formalnu cnda ves mayor algarnbia
Iao nilios marn peiujinoa estahan flacos
pero con unans birrigas coma globes
todon tenf'n la plol muy oncura
y no les importaba quo lan moscas se lea pasearan por
la cara y pur los labloo
flnmos todos junto'nI
piro luego ol padre Migitrlito nos rewr'rtto por casas
I;as casas oestnbn hlocihnn do pedazon cdo madera
y do pedazon do detic
-y die pedazos de cartoIn
y; do pedazo do tod lo lo que nosotron tir'ibamos a la baulra
A mr me: toe6 unn dlo 1,las chones mejorro
..crnfa -in pF'ticl t., o I itm aipi sonado
.'ALt llegar me cncimt.ro urion quinco ninon
y .una :mujrr tqic m :;t.ludlaba con amabll Idad y
socarroner iu
Los nindos todor so an avalanzaron
y ne refran y nie 1 tlmatnn "el monaguillo"
y me tiraban de la ropa y do loe brazoe
Tenfan el olor caractorfatico a fruLas podridas
Tuve un poco de temor
pero no sent nada do asco
por el contrario
sent come anass de 11ornr y de refrme al mismo tempo
y sentr ganas de acariciarlos a todos
Estaba nerv oso
pero hubiera querido traerles today la ropa de mi casa
UDspues de hablarles de la vida celestial
y de la Virgen
y de la conformidad
y del amor de Jesuo por los nifios
me reunt otra ves con los demis "monaguillos" para
emprender el rogreso
Mama' me recibil con cara de curlosidad
pero yo no tenri gnnan de hablar
y no tenfa ganas do comer
y no tenfa ganas de decir que estaba confuso y asombrado
de que hublora tanta gente pobre
y no tenia ganas de pensar As era justo que nosotros
fueramon a "El Manglar" a hablar del cielo

Emilio Bejel (1944- )



EL MANGIAR is a poetic narration in first
person singular dealing with a neighborhood of
fishermen in Ute Cuban town of Manzanillo during
the 1950s. It is a nort of autobiographical story
that starts with the moment, when a Catholic priest
namedMiguelito gathered a few young Catholic teen-
agers to go to "El tmnglar" in order to "spread the
word of God" among the poor fishermen of that
section of the town. The young protagonist-narrator
of the story expresses his feelings as he walks among
the terrible misery of the fishermen and their,
families. The houses of these people were made
with pieces of cardboard, zinc, and other materials
taken from the garloge that the people of the other
section of the town threw out. The young narrator
is amazed at the sight of thousands of poor children,
and he is also confused and deeply disturbed with
the contradiction that he has to teach contentment
to those people. Upon his return home, he refuses
to talk to his mother due to the profound shock that
he has suffered.

Caribbean Student Dancers -Caribbean


S dance
. 1

(Reader: Emilio Bejel)

(Dancers: C ribbean Student

Margaret Atwood (1943- ) Canada



This is the place
you would rather not know about,
this is the place that will inhabit you,
this is the place you cannot imagine,
this is the place that will finally defeat you

where the word why shrivels and empties
itself. This is famine.


There is no poem you can write
about it, the sandpits
where so many were buried
& unearthed, the unendurable
pain still traced on their skins.

This did not happen last year
or forty years ago but last week.
This has been happening,
this happens.

We make wreaths of adjectives for them,
we conmt them Ii ke Leads,
we turn them into statistics & litanies
and into poems like this one.

Nothing woris.
They remain what they are.


The woman 1 lot on the wet cement floor
under the unending light,
needle marks on her arms put there
to kill the brain
and wonders why she is dying.

She is dying because she said.
She is dying for the sake of the word.
It is her body, silent
and fingerless, writing this poem.


It resembles an operation
but it is not one

nor despite the spread legs, grunts
& blood, is it a birth.

Partly it's a job,
partly it's a display of skill
like a concerto.

It can be done badly
or well, they tell themselves.

Partly it's an art.

The facts of this world seen clearly
are seen through tears:
why tell me then ,
there is something wrong with my eyes? -,

To see clearly and without flinching,
without turning away, .
thLs is agony, the eyes taped open
two inches from the sun.

What Is it you see then?
Is' I.t a bad dream, a hallucination?
Is it i vision?
What is it you hear?
*The rnaor across the eyel al
is a detail from an old film.
It is also n truth.
Witness is what you must I ear.


In L.his country you rum say what you like
localise no one will listen to you anyway,
i I's safe enough, in this country you can. try to
wri te
the poem that can never be written,
lhe poem that invents "
nothing and excuses nothing,
Ibcause you invent and excuse yourself each day.

El:r:where, this poem is not invention.
El:rwhere, this poem takes co!ur:;ve.
.El:ewhere, this po.:m must be written
because the poets are already dead.

Elsewhere, this poem must be written
as if you are already dead,
nr: If nothing more ,unn he done
or said to save you.

r';lowh,)re you munst w-it.o t.lhi.; poem
hbcaus:e there is nothing more to do. '

O '.limon & Schuster
(Readt'r: ',rnaldine iNichol s)

Victor .ara




(Perform.r: .Jrg,. .0o,=:;n)

Viol.ta i'm-an(lyrics)

Victor Jara (muitc)


#e.f'ofnt .iorge Joene)
.. .. -, ):


Poeta Nahuatl Anonimo ( s M xlco

CAIITAIt, APCERCA DE LA cntl.W,"rl'A (VI10N I IN: Il :-
VNICT!'),T REIACTnlIE Illrli 'lIA Ill: A r(.)tltf.:11 'A)

Fn los caminos yacen daifla-n rohn.,'
los cai-ellor: estl erspar'icrldn.
Pestechadas estta las rn::ars,
enroj'cides tieene sus mrit-re.

'lusanonc pululan nor cnal -:; yt pila.:-t;;,
;/ en Ins raredes restau ::'l-tIpir'rlo:;I los :;::":i.
iojnr e:t-us las aguas, ,'::t,.m 0cotmI t.enidit::;
S,'nrrndo las bebimo:,
,e. r :mo :;i .beblieramo r's ti de ::o.li tLr'e.

',lt:.ib;mo., en tanto, s mturo:: Idte adole',
y "ra tluestlra herencita 'iti redt!l ,i :glijorn:m.
''on l.s escudos rue sri re.i;guardo,
v-"ro rti (oan escudros pr-.l" nor ::o::trenida ::ru nolel;:nl.

Lt.r-ail, amigos mof,
tened ontendido que cotin "tonr, li.'1th
her,'es perdio la naclir mrx.al.L.
!'.;l anria s-"' ha aceda.lo, ::e aIccld li comidti!
Ksto es to que hea Ieh I,, i'iador *1:I la Vltl In Tiatelol,'.).

( ) ':olumt .i Uniil ersity I ,ire ::, I1'/"r


Jo:;e E'milio Pacheco (!I '1 ) Mxy i-or


Cuando todos se hubieron reunldo,
los hombres en nrmas do guerra
fueron a cerrar las sal idas,
las entradas, los pasos.
Sun perros van por delnnte,
los van precediendo.

Entonces se oy5 el estruendo,
entonces se alzaron lon gritos.
Muchos maridos buscaban a sus mujpres.
linos llevaban en brazoa a sus hijos peqnuron.
Con perfidia fueron muertos,
sin saberto murieron.

Y e3 olor de la sangre mojaha el alre.
I el olor de la sangre mianchaba el afre.

Y los padres y madres alz7ahnn el llinnto.
Futoron llorados.
Se hi7o la lamentacion do los muertorn.
Los mexicnnon estaban muiy temeronoeo
Mtedo y verguienza los dominabdn.

r todo esno pans con noootron.
Cot esta lamentable y trinte suerte
nos vimon angustiadon,

Anonymous NahuatL Poet (r Mexico

Vi-tlI'r' AS; F1;IiN B'Y 'TIE VANQIIISHEIl. wroteE rF TIHF

Iri.cken darts1 Hie in the roads,
,,nr Uiir i di.shovled.
T'I'lr, are no roofs on tihe houses,
tli.-ir walll; re red with bl ood.

we,-rr:: are cr':wliwil through te;ll -r stootif.s -d Ithr IJ:rl
:tnd 11.' w il l:: are o :rp nl.tered w'i: h l",'tins...
'Tlhe wal.er in red. as iho(riI i l- V wer dy-ed,
:.nid wIhct w drink i.t
1t. i.S a: lhouih we were Iri.nklng .,nter wi-h T-r'k: salI i .

We- tI,-et, our 'fists oi tIhre aidobn wjl3s theti
:idl outr inheritance was -i line of' ,hotes dar in fi; crrn,-1.
''l,'v wore shields for protecli.tn,
it. i not even shields can fr ard t .hem .aninst. ,' elin '': :.

Wrfep, my friend,
yon have heard the story, ;nd yio kni'w now
t.lil. we have lost our Mexican hom'el..aid.
Thfe water heas t.urneirl hit,r ou, r !'ood hIv :i a lii.-v -i-t,
in owur mouths!
'I'i:: .s wi rt, the Gpiver of Lifr hasr done in T'IT: c l ...

., ::, E1m io P' checo ( L?9"?- ) T c ..x


When everyone had gathered,
the men, fully armed,
went to seal off the escapes,
the entrances and the passageways.
Their dogs go in front,
running ahead of them.

Then uproar broke on the ear,
then screaming ran wild.
Iluslpn ds reached for their wives.
Some took small children into their arms.
Treachery did them to death
They died without sensing it.

And the smell of blood dampened the air.
And the smell of blood stained the air.

And the fathers and mothers raised the lamern,.
'lThy were wept for.
Lamentation for the dead arose,
The Mexicans moved in dread.
Fear and shame took charge of them.

And all that happened to us.
With this wretched and grievous fate,
We saw ourselves as doomed.

En la montaia de los alaridos,
en los Jnrdines do la greda,
se ofrecen sacrificios,
ante la montiha de la guilas
donde se tiende la niebia de los escudos.

Ah yo nacf en la guorra florida,
yo soy mexicano.
Sufro, mi corazon se llena de pena:
veo la desolacion que se clerne notre el temple o
cuando todlos los eacudos se abrasanm n llamas.
Fn los caminos yncpn dnrdos rot.)r.
Las casas Pstoan ldestc'hnda:;.
Enrojeridlos ti.c:,en aus muros.
rusanos pululan por call-s y plaza.

Golpepmos l ro s ro de adoln
y es nuestra herencian
una red de agujeron.

Ento es lo que ha hecho et Pador de la Vida
allf en Tlatelolro.

Viking Press, 1975

On the hill of the wailing,
in the gardens of clay,
sacrifice are offered,
in front of the mountain of eagles
where the hazy shields are spread.

Ah, I was born to that flowering struggle,
I am Mexican.
I suffer, my heart overflown with grief.
I see the doom hover above'the temple
when all the shields erupt in flames.
On the roads lie broken rspearn.
The houses stand ror,flcr.is.
'hetir walls are washedI with rod.
Worms swarm through strc(ts -:nd :!!ir'o.

We beat on thF ndobe walls
and that is our heritage,
a web of holes.

Thnt is what, the Giver of Life 'r t",'
there in 'lateloleo.

(Reader: Guadalupe Williams)


instrumental piece

Oscar Alfnro (1921-1963) Bo


Contra la muerte y la guerra
Blancas rondas de escolares
Envuelven come collares
El globe azul de la tierra.

Son los chiquilloo felices
Que ignorant las distinciones
De razes y religiones
De credos y de pauses.

Desprecian el fanatismo
De los hombres inhumanos
Que matan a sus hermanos
En nombre del patriotism.

Un coro de corazones
Empapa todos los vientos
D risas y de canclonea
De luces y senttmientos...

Y con un amor, profundo
Los ni nosuniversales
En cadenna musicales
Unen loa pueblos del mundo. *

SPFanny Mendiabal, 1955
(Readers Mary Ellen Warren)


(Musicians: Cuerdas de

Oscar Alfaro (1921-1963) Bolivia


Against death and war
White rings-around-a-rosy of schoolchildren
like necklaces encircle
the blue globe of earth.

They are the happy children who
know nothing of distinctions
of races and religions
of creeds and of nations.

They despise the fanaticism
of inhuman men
who kill their brothers
in the name of patriotism.

A chorus of hearts
soaks every wind
with songs and laughter,
with light and passion.

And with profound love,
the universal children
in musical chains
unite the peoples of the world.

(Translators bary Ellen Warren)



pulort o Rico


(Perf!'erm rl: tlo:;~ I :;r~n~i 1%u-z~)

The "Plenno" naddrr:oo: various nsp-ee' of Puerto Rirann
life, comparing a hopel;o's lhurricihs-' aIrriv-al with
the "Tankee" occp-ition of the island. After that,
the ind-epndenco ,llaim is represented by the Pouerto
Rican fl.n waving lone (on the' inslnd, both t,h. Puerto
Ric'nn amid Unitedl ,tatre, flags have to always fly
together). Th'ertf'ter, relii.gous bellif.s, th! n; r.ir
cano indutotry, the lnbor barrioo" -:rul a ov.ryd-ry i fLi
in Puerto I{ri' aiocietty re presented.

Merle J. Clarke



Looking at me you go say I stupidee
But doe blame me is so me husband ha me
He keep me in the house
Ah turn real church mouse
Scrubbing, baking, cooking, doing all house chores
He said it's better if I stay indoors

To r-ar the children dat is me duty
A woman In the kitchen, for turn that is beauty
Par tles and movies, meeting new friends
For me that in alien as the river in Athens.

Women, open you eyes wide enough to see,
Inside the hu,::e is not the only place to be
Take up your cork, you hammer, you spade
Is not man alone dat could work trade
Drive you tractor, bus and truck
Show them you could do what they call hard work.

Out in the hills you can work to pay your own bills
Cutlassing and sawing cause you no ills
Up on the pulpits, rostrum and platform
Stu.glo with other women for better living condition
Take up your guns you are fit to fight
All over the world progressive women unite.

Pool all your efforts
As you unite and stand
four husband will still love you
With your strong, hard hands.
) Modern Printing Graphics Ltd., 1981
(Reader: Donna McFarlone)

Jdoo Tinoco


danne-r (Duncorn: Grupo

Brazil This "samba" is a well humored account of a slum
dweller who "crashes" a high society p-rty whose
guests include doctors, politicians and tycoons. The
uninvited guest, who can't call any attention to
Caclhaa) himself for fear that the others will discover thaM he
is poor and black, observes the party. After watching
the drinking and listening to the conversations,'he
comes to the conclusion that his own environment
back in the slum is just like "good old Switzerland,"
when compared to the high society atmosphere'or ~he
party. This conclusion is emphasized in tt-.refrain
which says "if you yell catch the thief, -nobbdy:
will be left at this party": .The cambrt will be
danced in a stylized manner where vnrious members ofr
tlr~alt3u norlerl.y'anre vepr-r-,entno. ..
*1 ^y;

Special thanks to all those who made this possible.

Committee in Support of the Peoples of Latin America

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