Postcard to Captain Bosco Centeno

                        San Carlos
                        Rio San Juan

                        Nicaragua, Central America

In this mountain hotel in Donovaly
I heard another version of that poem you wrote
about the guerrilla who fell in Nueva Guinea:

When they dug him up after the Triumph
they found his whole corpse had sprouted,
and through his uniform pockets
the maize grains had germinated golden cobs.

The same thing happened with Arlen Siú's long hair:
when she was burried, it became rootsock
of the nesting-tree for the El Sauce moon.

It appears that Miklós Radnóti (1909-1944),
a Hungarian orpahn,
who died in a concetration camp
was only identified in the common grave,
because in his convict jacket,
which barely protected him fron the cold,
                         much less the final shudder,
they foynd Eclogues and Postcards,
a handful of papers: fresh green leaves of poetry.



Donovaly, 1984.


Poets of the Nicaraguan Revolution
(Antología) Londres, 1993.