Classic Poem

Today, Day of the Dead, procession of shadows ...
Today, shadow among shadows, I rant out my wish
to be a great soldier, an anarchist worker,
Don Quixote, Don Juan, or a bandit.

Today I want to be a man. I'm burning to be
a valiant and war-seasoned captain,
one with the ranks of the loyalist factions
fighting in the fiery Spain of Valencia.

Today I want to be a man. I'd be a Quixote,
the real Alonso Quijano,
kindred of people producing today heroes of life
from the immortal madman's heroes in shadows.

Today I want to be a man. The Ecija Seven's
most thieving, the wildest of those
who flew on seven horses,
defying whatever with musket and dagger.

Today I want to be a man. I'd be a worker,
cutting the sugar cane, sweating his wages,
arms up, fists in the air,
tearing from the world my piece of bread.

Today I want to be a man. Climb over the walls,
mock the nunnery, be a perfect Don Juan;
carry off Sister Josephine and Sister Carmen, seduce them,
then take Julia de Burgos by force.