For Consuela—Anti-Fascista

It seems I knew you long before our common ties—of conscious choice
Threw under single skies, those like us
Who, fused by our mold
Became their targets, as of old

I knew you in Jarama’s hills
Through men and women drilled
In majesty, whose dignity
Rejected shirts and skirts of dimity.

I heard you in Guernica’s songs
Proud melodies that burst from tongues
As yet unknown to me—full thronged
With Liberty.

Anti . . . Anti-Fascistas!
That was your name
I sang your fame
Long fore my witness of your bane of pain

I saw you in the passion-flower
In roses full of flame
Pure valley lily, whose bower
Marks resemblance to your name.

Oh wondrous Spanish sister
Long-locked from all your care
Listen—while I tell you what you strain to hear
And beckon all from far and near.

We swear that we will never rest
Until they hear not plea
But sainted sacrifice to set
A small proud nation free

O anti-fascist sister—you whose eye turn to stars still
I’ve learned your wondrous secret—source of spirit and of will
I’ve learned that what sustains your heart—mind and peace of soul
Is knowledge that their justice—can never reach its goal.