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.