Remembering that August night
when, with our machetes
with our anger and with our determination,
we didn’t have to cut sugar cane
or harvest coffee anymore;
rather, with our machetes,
we could cut a path
through mountain, through jungle
to the plantation houses
to the slave masters
and start a revolution;
remembering that August night
when our machetes,
bathed in the blood of the oppressors,
yielded the power
to seize our freedom and to stand as men;
remembering that August night
when our machetes
united a people
to rise up in strength
and to forge a new nation.
We stand on the shoulders
of our ancestors while
remembering that August night.
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