Read a Guerillero’s poem. Somebody left it in my desk. Perhaps there are guerilleros in the office:
Someday, someday, I’ll live again,
I’ll sing again,
A song with freedom’s ring again.
My heart I’ll give again,
I’ll love again.
Beneath the moon above again.
But now I must flight,
For country and right,
Guerillero is the name for me
And my job to strike for liberty.
For the foe at one dark command,
From sky and shore
Swept down on our native land
And it’s ours no more.
o come and tramp with me
To right this hideous wrong with me.
Oh come and camp with me
Up to the hills with me
And strike with me a blow for liberty