Laura de Jesus

 

April in a Nation Poem

We are the anchors of the past,

 eaten away by the tablecloths,

of this and that said,

in the science of emptiness.

And if we pay attention, 

We'll hear more

of the Knights Templar 

and their grandparents who, 

when they set foot on this land, 

marked with iron and fire

A transversal history, 

of a life of war 

so that man could be born new

And they're talking 

about the month of April

as if the month of April 

were a vanity window

which could be opened, 

at any moment, 

in a dressed-up regime

of shamelessness, ignorance, 

and ease, and not a sentinel.

An oracle that permeates

the Vitality of Our Ideals

From PIDE dungeons 

to exile to survive, 

private ideals

And of what is theirs, 

say what?

May an willow if alive,

I shuddered at the frivolity

What are you doing 

with the month of April?

Theirs, utopia, others connections 

that connect us to the history 

of our ancestors 

whoRolled-up sleeves filled the crowd

Vibrant fields and cities 

Outside, the cry they carried

Indoors, wherever they go, 

to radios and newspapers, 

in bed and only in the chest

If they make men 

in this way who are not silent 

in the face of injustice, 

who is more flexible than cork

Were they fighting for others?

And they want an April poem,

April takes revenge 

in the rotten system 

of the Inquisition! 

No, April refuses to enter and die 

in this gangrene of lack 

that makes us dream,

April is not a poem, 

without falsehood 

and without righteousness, 

And if that's the case, 

the month of April stays 

in your glottis as a delay 

in your consciousness, 

It is necessary to give birth to April,

more than opening windows,

as if they were poems

falling from the trees, 

This month of April 

is more than it seems, 

it's a dream that trembles 

among those who have left, 

but who still persist 

in making April more than a month, 

more than a romantic revolution,

 transparent equity,

Let the carnations be red

but don't be made of plastic,

that they bring perfume,

But don't vomit desires 

Giving birth in April 

Like a nation that found 

itself in a young man

Calibrated to the ideal verticals

of fraternity, equality and liberty, 

and only then

The month of April is legitimized,

failure of dikes, dams, 

No tricksters' tics, 

baseness and hypocrisy, 

that the month of April 

will be renewed,

not like yesterday's anchor,

but as a beginning of joy,

It's not a vain fantasy 

disguised as vested interests,

April will tear the dresses 

and the lies and lay bare 

in a thousand nails 

In the spring of the nation.