Fidel Castro Ruz
The night turned off the starlight in honor of his departure. It was ten o'clock and twenty-nine minutes, when the pupils of the historical leader of the Cuban Revolution closed forever. Pain, silence, sadness. Fidel Alejandro Castro Ruz died; the guerrilla, the statesman, the creator of so many battles. He left without time to say goodbye. The friend of all, the young man from the revolutionary directory, the one who attacked the Moncada and with courage organized the route of the Granma Yatch, who dressed in olive green and raised his rifle in the Sierra Maestra. The one that fought in the sands of Playa Giron. He who raised his voice in the United Nations and taught us the concept of Revolution, took the path of heaven.
Commander! Ideas gather to honor you. I confess not being prepared for this chronicle. I would have preferred to write of his spiritual strength, his vision and political clarity, his reflections in the newspaper Granma, even when he was 90 years. Quixote of many generations. You say goodbye and I still can not believe it. He goes to meet Martí, Guiteras, José Antonio Echeverría, Juan Almeida... He leaves and, in his absence, the lackeys of the north, will want to defeat his work, his immense Revolution built by blood and sweat.
Gentleman of his time. Dreammaker among many chimeras. You knew about sports, culture, science or agriculture. With the machete, you cut cane in the 10 million harvest. You were never afraid of the cruelty of hurricanes. You were always there, where the pain was lurking, where the dispossessed were.
The simple, humble and cordial man deserves all the honors. Captivating friends, no matter the identity and social position. There you were to shake your right hand. Gabriel García Márquez, Nelson Mandela, Estela Bravo, Lucios Walker, Diego Armando Maradona or Mohamed Ali, are proof of this.
Many things I could say on this gray and gloomy morning. I could say that you are not dead. You will return from anywhere as you are still present. You will come filled with pleasure, after working with everyone for the good of all, as the Apostle said. The whole Cuba is hurt wrapped in tears, knowing you are dead. Dear Fidel. You leave and we can not help it. This is the life. Many times beautiful, others with hard episodes. Eternal goodbye, Commander!