July 31, 1942

Read a Guerillero’s poem. Somebody left it in my desk. Perhaps there are guerilleros in the office:

SOMEDAY

Someday, someday, I’ll live again,

I’ll sing again,

A song with freedom’s ring again.

My heart I’ll give again,

I’ll love again.

Beneath the moon above again.

But now I must flight,

For country and right,

Guerillero is the name for me

And my job to strike for liberty.

For the foe at one dark command,

From sky and shore

Swept down on our native land

And it’s ours no more.

o come and tramp with me

To right this hideous wrong with me.

Oh come and camp with me

Up to the hills with me

 And strike with me a blow for liberty

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