Madrigal for Runaway Slaves (for Miguel Barnet) by Nancy Morejón

Head and hands droop, burning,
a posse hot on the trail.
The sweating bodies fling themselves into
the humid swamps.
How beautifully tough their hearts are.
Doves and mice rest
on their machetes,
like branches,
and the time of the sun,
and of the moon,
and the time of desire
make them reborn like children,
like sweet children of a freedom already won.

    translated by Charles Tarzian

~ from Indispensable October, 1983
and from Black Woman and Other Poems (Mango Publishing 2004)