Havana, Cuba. – Just like 60 years ago, last January 8 was a great day of brightness. Havana was decked out with flags, peace rifles, children and men rich in love and justice.
Memories, beards and young people came back once more. They did it with more age, but equal convictions. Their breasts thundered with emotions, with medals loaded with feats.
Today's voices joined the Homeland caravan. Balconies were opened to hope; roads to the future were opened, and the same song came out of the throats of rebellious, worthy and loyal people.
They trod familiar paths. Hands were raised to welcome them. The images of that day mixed with renewed cheers. Mambises of these days were heard vowing to defend now and forever the Revolution that one day saved us.
Feelings crowded and words flew. The school built where a garrison used to be keeps delivering accomplished men and women. Moments and phrases were evoked from there. We are doing well. Everything has been harder, but we keep fighting to make it better.
The music from those days did not finish. Drums, trumpets, strings of an immortal orchestra had an overture prelude, but never a coda.
And that sound so loud of cheerful and pure voices proclaimed this freedom of all that floods the ground, the sea and the air. There have never been silences on this Island, only fainter tones for uncertain hours of meditation and burning.
It is a song of spirit, heroes and truths. The stave reconciles music notes so that there is no shortage of courage, laughter and brotherhood.
It's Cuba and it´s always January for the radiant and tuned dawn; for the grace and also for the native black, white, charming mulatto, for males and females. Overflowed with cowbells and drum hides, the day brought cheers to this concert of 60 years and its eternal leader.
Translated by Pedro A. Fanego
