Wave-Song
Overwhelming heat
melts the scent of the laurel roses
near the high walls
under the tall mango tree
losing its young tasteless fruit
burns the many coloured petals
of the frail petunias
that lie dying on the sand
of the exercise yard
In this sun
the earth all around
is empty of water
Only the endless wave-song
beyond the barb-wire
is a lullaby that rocks our enclosed and watchful sleep
is a confession
of a journey via Valparaiso
beneath the huge white mushroom cloud
infecting the sky over Mururoa
a scream
deafening cry
echoing the cries of Santiago’s tortured
an entreaty
words of combat
echoing the words of Pablo Neruda Victor Jara [1]
Salvador Allende
and his last remaining companeros
carrying us forward
in dignity
stronger and more serene
more timeless than that of the ageless majestic
stone guardians of Rapanui [2]
Camp-Est prison, November 1974
[1]. Victor Jara: Chilian musician
[2]. Rapanui: Easter Island
(reprint from the book Déwé Gorodé, Sharing as Customs Provide, translated from French and edited by Raylene Ramsay and Deborah Walker, Pandanus Books, The Australian National University, 2004, pp.43-44)
https://openresearch-repository.anu.edu.au/bitstream/1885/128839/1/Sharing_As_Custom_Provides.pdf
Image credit: Lisa Radford and Yhonnie Scarce, Fish Farm Okuba Looking to Ocean, 2019.