Memorial for
Antonio Maria Barrera

whose picture I carried toward the U. S. Army School of the Americas
November 22, 1998





I carried your picture, Antonio, one afternoon in November
in a procession of coffins, crosses and images.
For you we walked forbidden roads,
toward the place those who authored your death were trained.


Llevé su cuadro, Antonio, una tarde en noviembre
en una procesion de ataudes, cruces e imágenes.
Por usted, caminamos en senderos prohibidos,
hacia el lugar donde entrenaron a los que autorizaron su muerte.



I know nothing of you, Antonio.
Nothing of the place you played as a child
Nothing of the parents who grieved your death
Nothing of your hopes, your pleasures, your loves
Nothing of the place that is poorer for your passing.
Nothing but your death.


No se nada sobre usted, Antonio.
Nada sobre el lugar donde jugaba de niño
Nada sobre sus padres que sufrieron por su muerte
Nada sobre sus esperanzas, sus placeres, sus amores
Nada sobre el lugar que ahora es más pobre desde su muerte.
Nada sino su muerte.


There was a day when you were killed.
Was it sudden, a surprise--
A roadblock to halt your bus,
A sorting of passengers, shots beside the road,
And mercifully an end?

Hubo un día en el que usted fue muerto.
¿Fue de repente, una sorpresa--
Una barricada para detener a su autobus,
Un ordenamiento de pasajeros, disparos junto a la carretera,
y un fin misericordioso?



Or was the pain drawn out and magnified--
A message that you, who had no place to go, must leave or be killed,
threatening looks in the marketplace,
rough handling by the police,
early morning captivity at the rough hands of the masked ones,
brutalization in bloodstained rooms of lovely country haciendas
surrounded by flowering lawns and suffering peasants
until finally your bruised flesh could accept no more?


¿O fue su dolor alargado y aumentado--
Un mensaje que usted, sin tener a donde ir, debía irse o ser muerto,
miradas amenazantes en el mercado,
chequeos groseros por la policía,
un cautiverio por la madrugada en las manos duras de enmascarados,
trato bestial en cuartos ensangrados de bellas casas de hacienda
rodeadas de campos florales y campesinos que sufren
hasta que finalmente su piel golpeada no pudo tolerar más?



Who were those who killed you and why was your life in their way?
Who armed them and what did they hope from your passing?
Who trained them, and what were they told about why you must die?
What terrible part did my beloved country play in your death?

¿Quiénes fueron los que lo mataron y por qué‚ su vida estaba en su camino?
¿Quién los armó y qué‚ esperaban conseguir con su muerte?
¿Quién los entrenó y qué‚ les dijeron para que usted sea muerto?
¿Qué parte terrible jugó mi amado país en su muerte?



You were silent from that day
until the day I carried your picture.
When we reached the busses that would take us away,
they took your picture, leaving it beside the road,
perhaps like the others left your body, beside the road.
But they could not take your image from my eyes,
your name from my mind,
your pain from my heart,
or your voice from my lips.

Usted ha estado en silencio desde entonces
hasta el día en que llevé‚ su foto.
Cuando llegamos a los buses en los que nos llevaban arrestados,
nos quitaron su foto, dejándolo junto a la carretera,
quizá como los otros que dejaron su cuerpo, junto a la carretera.
Pero no pudieron quitar su imagen de mis ojos,
su nombre de mi mente,
su dolor de mi corazón,
o su voz de mis labios.


Jackson H. Day

Columbia, Maryland

Good Friday, 1999







This poem appeared January 28 - February 25, 2000 at the Cuesta College Art Gallery, San Luis Obispo, California, in support of "The Practice of Art," an exhibition by David Settino Scott. As described by Cuesta College,, ten panels of the exhibit "lament death squads and human rights abuses. In "The Human Series," suburban ranch and colonial homes bear silent witness to the remains of executions, assassinations, lynchings and other muders that result from politics rather than passion." Thanks to Karen Chilton Beverly for beginning the Spanish translation, and to Leslie Salgado for completing it. Copyright 2000, Jackson H. Day. Page updated March 5, 2000




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