Out here, as you know,
the bars of the iron cage bend slowly.
So slow the movement in the enormous incarceration
that events merge, things relational blur.
I was arrested by the news that verdant morning
and my concerns went spinning in the vortex of dreams
straight into the heart of your detention.
But tell me, free human being of North America,
where in that maximum security cell
with its many unblinking eyes keeping watch,
among what thoughts,
what regrets, dreams and memories,
does the mad composition of resolve reside?
By what magical logic do your sinews break the chains
and caress unknown hearts and callused hands
in strange lands also heavy with tyranny?
In those long hours of solitude,
towards what shores does your heart soar?
What fragrances do you breathe?
Tell me, because eyelids refuse to shut this cold autumn evening,
and, in this blind moment of reflection
I cannot really say, "I know you, brother".