In the dark cell
I strongly desired a tree, something alive.
My glance sank in the molded walls
in desperate goodbyes, in the names of the executed
who tumbled along with the stucco
as if they were re-executed among the laughter
and harmonica sounds of the ignorant masquerades
who were passing in the roads outside.
I hadn’t understood that nature started with me
and the prison guards couldn’t take anything from me.