The moon shines Over your corn and tobacco plants, your homes Peaceful, shielded by the night.   Now you are still being strangled by the fascists, By the paramilitary instigated by Israel.   Mukag, tonight We seem to be merely passing you by But actually the movement of the oppressed masses Is slowly creeping From the edges of your paddies and mesas, From among the barrio people who till now Are burning with revolutionary fervor. It won't be long and your armed children Will find shelter in your homes, It won't be long and the sun will cast Its light on them through your windows, in your yards, And the bodies exhausted during the hiking You will hold in your arms. You are the new Labting of our war.   (J.M.A.)