The Call Of Freedom

THE CALL OF FREEDOM

I came across the following poem by chance. Good things always come to me unexpectedly. I am not one of those types who purposely hunt for fortune. I wait for serendipities since I am lazy. Anyway, the poem was so powerful that I felt compelled to copy it. I added nineteen words to fit the circumstances of the Vietnamese boat people. The original was written in Spanish by Roberto Bolano. The translation was done by Laura Healy. I dedicate this poem to those brave souls who responded to the call of freedom, particularly to those who unfortunately perished in their attempt to reach the shore of liberty.

The Call of Freedom

I set off. I took the march and never knew
Where it might take me. I went full of fear,
My bowels were loose, my head was buzzing:
I think it was the icy wind of the dead.
I don’t know. I set off, I thought it was a shame
To leave so soon, but at the same time
I heard that mysterious and convincing call.
You either hear it or you don’t, and I heard
And almost burst out crying: a terrible sound,
Borne on the air and in the sea.
A sword and a shield. And then,
Despite the fear, I set off, I put my cheek
Against Death’s cheek.
And it was impossible to close my eyes and miss seeing
That slow spectacle,
Though fixed in a swift reality:
Hundreds of thousands of people like me, gaunt,
Fearful but determined, all Vietnamese, all of us,
Out at sea, in flimsy boats, brushing cheeks with Death,
Answering the call of freedom

CanNgon
8-16-2009