By Jesús Orta Ruiz (El Indio Naborí) on January 31, 2026
foto: Bill Hackwell
Blue-eyed mother, mother of America:
my children are peaceful, they work, they sing, they dream,
they love under the green shade of their palm trees.
Robert, your young blond boy,
how happy he would be playing baseball with my cheerful Juan with his black hair!
However, the shady merchants who govern your people
want Robert to kill Juan under his own sky, on his own land.
My Juan is noble,
but when his flag is offended he leaps like a lion, and his doves fight like wild beasts.
From mother to mother I tell you:
tell your son not to come.
The pirates who touch this island stay on its shores, and they do not stay alive.
You would cry without pride but tears of shame.
On the contrary, I, if Juan were to die,
as the mother of a patriot would have a proud sorrow.
But it is better, dear Mother Mary, that Juan and Robert each live on their own land,
and that only in studies, sports, and art do they engage in loving competition.
I promise you that Juan will never be an aggressor.
I taught him to respect sovereign teachings.
But if Robert comes and shoots at him, Juan has, Mother Mary, the right to defend himself.
Mother of blue eyes, mother of North America,
for the life of Robert with golden hair and the life of Juan with black hair,
let us sing to peace a sweet fraternal song.
And don’t let shady merchants, who think of gold
and don’t think of your children,
If they send Robert, your young blond son, to kill and die in my palm trees.
From mother to mother, I warn you:
TELL YOUR SON NOT TO COME.
Jesús Orta Ruiz (El Indio Naborí)
Source: Cuba en Resumen