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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=581061" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Two Poems for Nicaragua</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Return to sender (Managua, Nicaragua Postal Service) I<br>							<br>Turn at the corner known as “gallo más gallo”<br>2 blocks toward the lake, and at Doña Blanquita the Belle’s house<br>look to the right and up a little<br>as toward the sky and then lower your gaze to the tree charred<br>in the earthquake, right there where <br>Don Francisco props himself up in the window to talk <br>with Pedro Xavier and that Gloria girl, <br>at the next house take just three steps, <br>knock on the door where there’s always a rocker, <br>and deliver these poems and this letter, please. <br>And if nobody takes them or the person whose name<br> is written on the envelope is no longer living, <br>return to where you came from. <br>Go slow, looking over your shoulder, <br>who knows if the address is right, <br>and perhaps someone will ask you, Mr. Mailman, <br>who are you looking for to these many hours in this neighborhood<br>in Managua? 	</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Return to sender (Managua, Nicaragua Postal Service) II<br>			<br>For Pablo Salomone </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Pablo, the Argentine guerrilla fighter, made his way with his Uzi, <br>one afternoon in 1978 or 1979 in Managua, <br>hotter than blazes, <br>on a slip of paper he had the address of his contact.<br>He knew nothing about Managua, only a map, and that<br>slip of paper with the address of Comandante Gloria, <br>19, chocolate-colored.<br>As the young Argentine ran along, crouching between trees and houses, <br>the address was right there on the slip of paper: </div><div style="margin:10px 0">“When you come to the corner of the bar “Los Olvidados, ”<br>continue on for three blocks, careful with the poet Guillermo’s gate<br>that can trip you up if you don’t see it, <br>go on to the right and pass by three yellow houses with grillework, <br>make no noise when you walk through the ironwork gate <br>where there are three mango trees<br>and across from there you’ll see a wall painted red and black<br>with some bullet holes made by Somoza’s sons of bitches, <br>on the corner is your contact’s house, <br>in the window there will be a vase with a single flower<br>you should whistle the ballad “Nosotros” for a good while.<br>If the vase disappears, knock on the door three times.”</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It’s been several centuries since then. The world travels down a different path.<br>The whole socialist camp has crumbled. Pablo didn’t die in that<br>1979 war. He still has that slip of paper of his contact<br>with Comandante Gloria. He recently visited a different Managua<br>and looked for that very address.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The house was in the same spot, except that on the wall painted red and black, <br>with the same Somoza National Guard bullet holes, <br>there was now a mural with the photo of the self-same comandante Daniel Ortega, <br>the presidential candidate, backed by Somoza’s party.<br>The very same dynasty of the Somozas’ who ordered <br>the killing of that girl while the teen-age Argentine guerrilla<br>whistled a ballad one blistering hot afternoon.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>					<br>(Both Poems Translated from Spanish by W. Nick Hill)</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Javier+Campos">Javier Campos</a><div class=q>
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Turn at the corner known as “gallo más gallo”
2 blocks toward the lake, and at Doña Blanquita the Belle’s house
look to the right and up a little
as toward the sky and then low..."></div>
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