Yesterday marked 35 years since the death of the poet Roque Dalton, who is still unpunished crime as it is popularly known, was executed by his own companions of political militancy, a loss which was simpre faithful to their political ideals.
Roque Dalton is one of the most representative poets of Latin America, his work is very complex and studied in many parts of the world, we left an impressive legacy of his work.
Paradoxically one of those directly involved in the Roque murder today in the leftist government acutual serves as the Director of Civil Protection, and that ethics and morality this man should be removed from office by respect for the memory of Roque Dalton which for many is a of the biggest insults to the poet and his family.
hope that President reflections on this point and make its management without a man with a stain on his record and of which he señalana crime that has yet to be clarified.
1974 Poetics
Poetry
Forgive me for having helped to understand
are not made only of words.
Forgive me for having helped to understand
are not made only of words.
TIME OF ASH
September Ends. It's time to tell you how difficult
was not dying.
For example, this afternoon I have on hand
gray
beautiful books I do not understand,
could not sing but the rain has stopped and
and I like for no reason
remember the first dog that I loved as a child.
Since yesterday
you left wet and cold up there in the music.
When I die, just remember my joy
morning and palpable,
my flag without the right to tire, the concrete truth
handed out from the fire, I made a fist
unanimous clamor
the stone you chose hope.
's cold without you. When I die, when I die
say with good intentions
knew not mourn.
raining again now.
never been late for a quarter to seven
as today.
I feel a mad desire to laugh or kill
.
THE VAIN
I would be a great dead. My vices
then would look like antique jewelry with these delicious colors
poison.
should all aromas flowers on my grave
and adolescents imitate my gestures of joy,
my hidden words of grief.
Maybe someone would say that I was loyal and was good.
But only you would remember the way I look in the eye.
was not dying.
For example, this afternoon I have on hand
gray
beautiful books I do not understand,
could not sing but the rain has stopped and
and I like for no reason
remember the first dog that I loved as a child.
Since yesterday
you left wet and cold up there in the music.
When I die, just remember my joy
morning and palpable,
my flag without the right to tire, the concrete truth
handed out from the fire, I made a fist
unanimous clamor
the stone you chose hope.
's cold without you. When I die, when I die
say with good intentions
knew not mourn.
raining again now.
never been late for a quarter to seven
as today.
I feel a mad desire to laugh or kill
.
THE VAIN
I would be a great dead. My vices
then would look like antique jewelry with these delicious colors
poison.
should all aromas flowers on my grave
and adolescents imitate my gestures of joy,
my hidden words of grief.
Maybe someone would say that I was loyal and was good.
But only you would remember the way I look in the eye.
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