From the very moment he arrived in Havana that January 8th, 1959, and during a long time, many people identified Fidel Castro with the shape of a horse. (Photo: Escambray)
“(…) slowly, without a rider, a horse for you.” Impressive ending and beginning of one of the most beautiful songs, composed by Raúl Torres.
They say that in the Square, these days
They have seen Camilo and Martí riding
And ahead of the caravan
Slowly, without a rider, a horse for you.
Not others could be the images of this troubadour, born in Bayamo, the city, whose inhabitants preferred to burn it down, rather than to hand it over to the Spanish Colonial Army, an event which becomes a symbol of the Cubans’ determination to conquer their freedom.
Some months before, this territory became the capital of the Republic in Arms, and it also was the first free city of Cuba, where our National Anthem was sung for the first time, a march in which a direct remark to her inhabitants was done: “To fight, run Bayameses (…)”
It is precisely from that city where the Bayam tree has its nestle. A tree of wisdom, luxuriant and with good shadow that goes into the Cuban national stave, Raúl Torres, who surpasses lyricism in each of his texts, and that has the exact sense to put there, where the word is highly felt or the note which leaves us his breath.
Men, the grateful accompany you
How we will desire your heroic deeds
Not even death believes taking possession of you.
And in this way, during so many years, even his enemies wanted him dead, Fidel Castro remained here, on his post. His loyal followers ascertained that he walked over water, and was capable of deviating meteorological phenomena to save the people from its onrush.
From the very moment he arrived in Havana that January 8th, 1959, and during a long time, many people identified him with the shape of a horse.
In the song Riding with Fidel, a poem written at the moment that the guide, as universal as his master, began the transit to another site of this galaxy, Torres placed him as he always was, “ahead of the caravan”.
People say that in the Square this morning
There is no more room for more spirited horses
Arriving from far away
A desperate crowd
Of heroes with swift swords
Who have agreed to meet here
And ahead of the caravan
Slowly without a rider, a horse for you
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(Translated by Reinaldo Fernández)
