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But when tortures and darkness
seem to extinguish the free air
and it is not the spume of the waves
but the blood among the reefs that you see,

Fidel's hand comes forth and in it
Cuba, the pure rose of the Caribbean.

And so History teaches with her light
that man can change that which exists
and if he takes purity into battle
in his honor blooms a noble spring:

behind is left the tyrant's night,
his cruelty and his insensible eyes,

the gold snatched by his claws,
his mercenaries, his cannibal judges,
his high monuments sustained
by torment, dishonor, and crime:

everything falls into the dust of the dead
when the people set their violins
and looking forward interrupt and sing,

interrupt the hatred of the shadows and watchdogs,
sing and wake the stars with their song
and pierce the darkness with guns.

And so Fidel came forth cutting shadows
so that the jasmine tree could dawn.