The Cuban poet, Luis Felipe Rojas, has once again been locked away in one of the “barracks of shame”. Up to now, we do not know the name of the center where he is being held, but surely he will not want to remember this name when the long and dark night of communism is over in Cuba.
Early this Saturday, April 28th 2012, the Officers of Terror arrived at his home in San German, Holguin and took him away. As usual, they gave no reasons for the arrest and also did not tell him, or anyone else, which unit he’d be taken to. His wife was left home, under a species of house arrest, considering that the henchmen stationed themselves outside the house. For her, after living the experience of “the days of the Pope”, she has no doubt that as soon as she steps out, she will smell the odor of a communist prison cell.
The telephone lines of the dissident couple are completely jammed, and any kind of communication with them is impossible. Any messages of support and solidarity can be left at the end of this post, and when the poet returns home, he will hear them.
For now, we leave you with one of the poems he has written:
Like a Truffaut Film
The blood will run from the front door to the scaffold
the scene will begin with tricks. The blood will run
hate will run and so too will the drug of envy. Which of the two will be stop
which of the two
The girl is a dull shadow. She is a celestial mask
over the face of the afternoon
Blood will run against us
light grey stains against the white light.
Translated by Raul G.
28 April 2012