1. "[T]he revolutionary women’s movement [of India] is growing in the midst of struggle… As women are getting mobilized and organized in larger and larger numbers, a section of them is also moving forward to join the armed struggle as fighters. They are willing to brave the hardships of guerrilla life with its constant movement and constant alertness, take on tasks and duties equal to men, with the aim of changing this exploitative society, for there is no other way to get out of the existing system, however long and arduous the path may be. The movement is creating a new woman, bold and brave, who is willing to sacrifice her life for the social cause — the names of the women who have sacrificed thus loom high in the sky. There was Rathakka (Nirmala), the housewife from Andhra Pradesh, who died at the sentry post while defending her comrades, Emeshwari (Kamala), the Oraon educated girl from Jagdalpur, who died at her post during a raid on a police station, young Raje who died of a snake bite, Swaroopa who died giving a heroic fight in an encounter. This list can go on. But they are fighting so that women can be unshackled and attain equality, so that the poor can get justice and India can become a truly independent country, free from imperialist exploitation."
    — Anuradha Ghandy, The Revolutionary Women’s Movement in India; Scripting the Change p. 226
  2. "Let us not bother thinking about whether the soul can die or not, when we know that hunger kills." -Camilo Torres, Colombian communist priest

    Design by Natalio Perez (selucha.tumblr.com)

  3. Just made this, a homage to Latin American liberation theology. Aníbal Sampayo is a well-known Uruguayan leftist musician, best known for his revolutionary folk songs in the 60s-80s. This poem can be found on his 1971 album, Hacia la Aurora. Camilo Torres, much more widely known, was a Catholic priest in Colombia who went underground and joined the ELN, one of Colombia’s guerrilla armies; he was killed in battle shortly thereafter, but became somewhat of a legend among Catholic radicals in the region.

  4. This is really cute, the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia have a Christmas song and it doesn’t suck. It’s called This is How the 25th is with the Guerrillas and it’s by Lucas Iguarán, whose entire discography is worth listening to, as long as you like accordion.

    And yes, I’m tagging this “Christmas music.”


  5. "I feel the suffering of the indian from La Guajira, of how the Arawak suffers sickness. I feel the isolation of the Kogui-Arasario people, I am the laboring sweat of the Mocaná.

    I am the Indian at the edges of the Sierra Nevada, of the inhospitable and unproductive earth. They stole my good land, and on ice nothing will grow.”

    A great song by Lucas Iguarán, a singer, guitarist, and guerrilla in the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia - People’s Army, from his 1990 album Mensaje Fariano (Message from the FARC). Iguarán highlights many of the injustices committed by the Colombian state against the indigenous peoples of Colombia, naming many of these groups and making frequent references to specific regions of the country. Many of these references are from the northeastern region, perhaps due to Iguarán himself being from a town called Villanueva in the northeastern department of La Guajira.

    About 12-13% of the FARC is composed of women and men from indigenous communities, whereas the official indigenous population of Colombia is between 3-4%.

    I’ve transliterated the words to the best of my ability and I learned a lot in the process. I hadn’t really heard of any of these groups before and had to do some research to figure out which ones were being referenced.

    "Comandantes Israel y Jairo… amigos inseparables!"

    Yo soy nativo, soy de esta tierra,
    yo soy el indio de mi región
    Ahora no es justo que aquí otros vengan,
    digan ser dueños si el dueño soy

    Vivo apartado, vivo en la sierra,
    lejos de la civilización
    Adinerados roban mis tierras
    dizque las heredaron de Colón

    Yo fui aquel Tupe que resistió el asalto
    y que la guerra al español llevó
    Yo fui el Kankuamo en la región de Atánquez
    que una epidemia de viruela acabó

    Yo siento el sufrimiento del indio guajiro
    de como el Arahuaco sufre enfermedad
    Yo siento el aislamiento del Kogui-Arsario
    Soy el sudor labriego de los Mocaná

    Yo soy el indio a orillas del Nevado
    de tierra inhóspita, improductiva
    Mi buena tierra me la robaron,
    y sobre el hielo no se cultiva

    Soy el guajiro en sus arenales
    dueño del gas, dueño del carbón
    Muero de vainas que son curables
    y sin embargo pa mí no son

    Soy el Chimila que agoniza en San Angel,
    soy el reducto del indio Boquilón
    Yo soy el Yukpa, tengo que liberarme,
    yo soy el indio de mi región

    Yo soy el indio, yo soy el indio,
    yo soy el indio de mi región
    Yo soy el indio, yo soy el indio,
    víctima de la expoliación
    Yo soy el indio, yo soy el indio,
    y respetado por la nación


  6. "His name remained among the people, it stayed in history, and with his sword he hoisted his warrior spirit. He turned many defeats into victories, a thinking by which the guerrillas now live. It was in Rome where he made his promise, and here is where he began his path as the Liberator. In Cartagena he released his manifesto, and with his army he defeated the invader’s troops.”

    Another great song from the FARC guerrillas, this one by Lucas Iguarán translated basically as “Get With the Program.” Like many songs from the Colombian communist movement, it upholds Simón Bolívar as the chief historical reference point for today’s revolutionaries, but it does so without once naming Bolívar, demonstrating how ubiquitous these references truly are. In the above quoted section, the translation of the first two stanzas, we can see references to 1. Bolívar’s famous sword, 2. his oath at Monte Sacro (Rome, Italy), in the presence of mentor Simón Rodríguez, to dedicate himself to the independence struggle, and 3. the Cartagena Manifesto of 1812 detailing the failures of his first politico-military campaign.

    Give it a listen!

    "Comandante Alfonso Cano: la lucha es larga pero triunfaremos!"

    Su nombre quedó en los pueblos, quedó en la historia
    y en su espada alzó su espíritu de guerrero
    Cuantas derrotas convertidas en victorias
    pensamiento que hoy viven los guerrilleros

    Fue en Roma donde un día hizo su juramento
    y aquí comenzó su gesta liberadora
    En Cartagena lanzó aquel manifiesto
    con su ejército venció la tropa invasora

    El que ame la libertad, que se meta al cuento, hermano!
    La insurrección llegará con su espada en nuestra mano
    Cada hombre de dignidad debe ser bolivariano

    "Para nuestro querido viejo, Manuel Marulanda Vélez!"

    Sus amores fueron musas inspiradoras
    pero ante todo su amor por la independencia
    Fueron cuatro las campañas liberadoras
    y derrotó con su genio la indiferencia

    Fue un pueblo humilde aguerrido contra el realista
    el pilar fundamental de la libertad
    Nos advertistes la amenaza imperialista
    amenaza que se hizo una realidad

    El que ame la libertad, que se meta al cuento, hermano!
    Que venga que aquí en las FARC luchará contra el tirano
    y en combate por la paz también es bolivariano

    "Mandos y combatientes del Bloque Central: un abrazo!"

    En América Latina quiso formar
    de varios pueblos hermanos la patria grande
    y en llanos, páramos y valles llegó a sembrar
    un gran sueño de unidad que surcaba el Andes

    De los pobres levantó siempre sus banderas
    su ejemplo digno seguimos los guerrilleros
    la rebeldía de este pueblo alista trincheras
    aquí vuelve a cabalgar ese ser guerrero

    El que ame la libertad, que se meta al cuento, hermano!
    La insurrección llegará con su espada en nuestra mano
    Cada hombre de dignidad debe ser bolivariano

    El que ame la libertad, que se meta al cuento, hermano!
    Que venga que aquí en las FARC luchará contra el tirano
    y en combate por la paz también es bolivariano


  7. I’m not really sure what genre this would be considered, but regardless it’s an upbeat, danceable song by the FARC guerrillas worth giving a listen. The lyrics don’t seem to make much sense at first but I guess it’s making a metaphor of the Revolution as some small animal that kicks it with guerrilla leader Jesús Santrich. Okay.

    ahí viene Santrich con su animalito
    viene por ahí con su cusumbito
    lo mira Camila, dice que es bonito
    ella lo asimila porque es farianito

    vamos a gozar del animalito
    que es un meneito rico y farianito
    la Nueva Colombia tiene que llegar
    todos a la calle, todos a luchar!

    este animalito es de la emisora
    le dirá al pueblito, “ya llegó la hora!”
    y cuando ésta llegue, todos a la calle
    que nadie se quede, que Colombia estalle

    vamos a gozar del animalito…

    ya viene avanzando, tiene la guerrilla
    y la está esperando toda Barranquilla
    lo baila el pueblito, en la insurrección
    este animalito es revolución

    vamos a gozar del animalito…

    la gente pelea, está con las FARC
    ya incendie la tea de la libertad
    oigan la emisora en la orientación
    es la promotora de la insurrección

    vamos a gozar del animalito…

  9. El Nombre de la Paz es Justicia: Voces de las FARC-EP

    En el verano de 2012 se anunció el inicio de una mesa de diálogo entre el gobierno de Colombia y las Fuerzas Armadas Revolucionarias de Colombia. Los nuevos diálogos son un acontecimiento de trascendencia histórica tanto para el pueblo colombiano como para los pueblos del continente. En las conversaciones está en juego la posibilidad de una salida política al conflicto social y armado que ha desgarrado al país neogranadino desde hace más de cincuenta años.

    El Nombre de la Paz es Justicia es un documental del Equipo EDC que nos lleva a La Habana, lugar donde se desarrollan los diálogos. Allí escuchamos las voces de diversas personalidades de la delegación de las FARC-EP, entre ellos los comandantes Ricardo Téllez, Jesús Santrich, Andrés Paris y Marco León Calarcá, junto con la internacionalista Alexandra Nariño, las guerrilleras Camila Cienfuegos y Diana Grajales, y el músico Jaime Nevado.

    Rico en historias personales, el documental relata la vida cotidiana y la cultura en la guerrilla. Pero el tema central es la larga búsqueda de una paz duradera por esta organización político-militar. Para las FARC, la paz es sinónimo de justicia social; se alcanzará la verdadera paz eliminando las raíces del conflicto: la desigualdad extrema, la libre entrega del país a las transnacionales y la exclusión violenta del pueblo de la vida política colombiana.

    (Source: aporrea.org)


  10. In commemoration of the 34th anniversary of the Nicaraguan Revolution today, July 19th, 1979. (I wrote most of this a couple of years ago, and it’s just been sitting in my drafts folder… I hope you like it!)

    "What’s the confusion?" asked the sergeant,
    "Could it be that this bastard is the notorious Cadejo?"

    If there is one thing the Sandinistas took really seriously, it was the honoring its heroes and fallen comrades.

    The double-LP Canto Epico al FSLN, from which today’s song comes, features, among its 35 songs, 12 homages to martyrs of the Frente Sandinista de Liberación Nacional dedicated to Casimiro Sotelo, Pedro Aráuz Palacios, Eduardo Contreras, Julio Buitrago, Luisa Amanda Espinoza, Carlos Fonseca, Leonel Rugama, José Benito Escobar, Camilo Ortega, Germán Pomares, Edgard Munguía, and the topic of today’s post, my all-time favorite revolutionary, Rigoberto Cruz… better known as Pablo Úbeda.

    Úbeda was one of the earliest members of the FSLN, having been a participant in the Nicaraguan Revolutionary Youth (JRN) of 1959 and the New Nicaragua Movement (MNN) of 1962, two of the predecessor organizations to the Frente. Unlike the primarily student-based FSLN membership, Úbeda was a worker, and thus valuable in his ability to both relate to, and blend in among, the general population.

    He participated in the FSLN’s first guerrilla action in 1963 commonly known as Raití-Bocay or the Río Coco and Bocay Operation, a spectacular failure that, for a short while after, pushed the group away from armed struggle and toward reformist politics. The analysis to later come from FSLN leader Carlos Fonseca stated that the failure at Raití-Bocay was due in large part to an incorrect choice of locations; the town of Raití was largely populated by Miskito Indians who spoke little Spanish and often had little interest in the guerrillas. Because their relationship to the land (and to the rest of Nicaragua) was different from mestizo peasants, the FSLN was unable to relate and win over supporters that could assist with intelligence and supply lines, nor did its presence inspire a pool of potential recruits. In addition, Sandinista commander Víctor Tirado López notes, in his essay El FSLN, un producto y una necesidad históricos, that the operation demonstrated an overemphasis on armed struggle without undertaking corresponding political work, that it showed that links with the peasantry must be strong rather than fleeting to create a solid guerrilla base, and that the long-established Nicaraguan tradition of preparing armed ‘invasions’ from across the Honduran or Costa Rican borders could not be successful (1).

    It is worthwhile here to refer again to the writings of Carlos Fonseca in order to lay the groundwork for understanding Ubeda’s contribution. In Fonseca’s 1969 declaration, Nicaragua Hora Cero (Zero Hour), he points out that this defeat, along with the general decline of the Nicaraguan popular movement around 1963 (2), shattered the FSLN and thrust it into a period of quasi-reformism. While the Frente still maintained that armed struggle was the only way to achieve victory, “the reality was that for a while the practical work to continue preparing for armed struggle was interrupted. In addition, it is true that after the defeat in 1963, our movement emerged seriously conflicted, but didn’t know how to find the proper way to overcome this internal crisis.” (Obra Fundamental, pp. 152-153) Fonseca doesn’t argue against the period of recuperation, but rather notes that the FSLN failed to use this time to collect resources or train new combatants for a renewed attempt at waging war against the veiled dictatorship of the Somoza family.

    During this time between 1964 and 1966, the FSLN engaged in quasi-legal organizing with an organization known as the Republican Mobilization in urban areas, attempting to develop a broader anti-Somoza front.

    Ubeda, however, was one of the few members to remain in the mountains during this period of strategic confusion. As a leader of the Frente’s clandestine work during its brief above-ground phase, his assignment was to develop contacts with potential allies and collaborators and to seek out the prime location for the resumption of armed struggle. In the process, he became an organizer of some of the first peasant unions in Nicaragua, alongside fellow Sandinista Bernardino Diaz Ochoa. The work of Ubeda is summed up quite succinctly by Tomás Borge, commander and founder of the Frente, in his 1985 essay Marginal Notes on the Propaganda of the FSLN:

    Three consecutive years of underground work visiting everyone, hut by hut, household by household, ravine by ravine, from Pancasán passing through Peñas Blancas in Jinotega and following the Tuma River until he arrived on the Atlantic Coast where he traveled the long footpaths through the mining areas… Without his organizing work, Pancasán would never have been possible.

    In 1967, Ubeda was killed, along with FSLN founding member Silvio Mayorga and the rest of his unit, during the Pancasán campaign. While also a failure, the Sandinistas analyzed that this was a failure of a different type than that of Raití-Bocay; whereas the latter had been a failure on all fronts, Pancasán demonstrated a military failure but one in which political groundwork had been successfully laid—in part by the efforts of Úbeda—to maintain the activities of the revolutionary struggle.

    We will note in the lyrics that Carlos Mejía Godoy makes various references to Nicaraguan particularities; the opening stanza, for example, refers to animals and plants that I had never heard of before (and which you can read about by clicking the links I provided). We hear about Carlos Reyna, the National Guard, the cadejo, a juez de mesta, three towns, and three kinds of crops useful for hiding.

    Anyway, I hope you all dig the song and the little history lesson! You’ll find an English translation below.

    (1) On a few occasions before the formation of the FSLN, opposition groups, largely under the hegemony of the Conservative Party, attempted armed invasions of Nicaragua to overthrow the Somoza family’s hold on power. The 1959 El Chaparral guerrilla operation in which Carlos Fonseca participated (as a member of the Nicaraguan Socialist Party) was an unmitigated disaster, and ended up being the last attempt by the mainstream opposition to overthrow Somoza with force.

    (2) Fonseca attributes this to the farcical election of René Schick, a Somoza family ally, as president in the 1963 election and the natural decline of the revolutionary energy following the Cuban Revolution, at that point 4 years past.


    Se disfraza de espadillo, se disfraza de mozote
    y se convierte en pocoyo, conejo, garrobo, cusuco, pizote.

    Pablo Ubeda pasó ayer mismo muy temprano,
    Carlos Reyna lo encontró allá en el comisariato.

    Pero cómo sucedió? Si ayer en la madrugada
    el juez de mesta lo vio cruzándose la cañada.

    ¿Qué será esta confusión? se preguntaba el sargento,
    ¿no será que este cabrón es el mentado Cadejo?

    Lo vieron en Kuskawas, en La Tronca y en Waslala,
    ya no lo verán jamás, se lo tragó la montaña.

    Lo ayudan los vientos, las siete cabritas
    lo oculta el chagüite, lo esconde la milpa.

    La guardia dispara contra el cafetal…
    y sale Pablito sereno, pajito, bordeando el cañal.


    He disguises himself as espadillo, he disguises himself as mozote
    and he becomes a pauraque, a rabbit, an iguana, an armadillo, a coati.

    Pablo Ubeda passed by very early yesterday,
    Carlos Reyna (1) found him there in the commissary.

    But how did it happen, if yesterday morning
    the juez de mesta (2) saw him crossing the ravine?

    "What’s the confusion?" asked the sergeant,
    "Could it be that this bastard is the notorious Cadejo (3)?

    They saw him in Kuskawas, in La Tronca and in Waslala (4),
    but they will never see him again, he was swallowed by the mountain.

    He is helped by the winds, by the seven young kids,
    he is obscured by the banana stalks, he is hidden by the cornfield.

    The National Guard shoots at the coffee plants….
    and Pablito comes out calm, covered in straw, walking along the canal.

    (1) Carlos Reyna was an early member of the FSLN, joining the Frente after participating in the MNN. He was killed during the 1967 Pancasán operation along with Úbeda, Commander Silvio Mayorga, and a full third of the guerrilla force.

    (2) In Somoza-era Nicaragua, a juez de mesta was a middle/upper-class person in the countryside designated to resolve land disputes between peasants. During the Sandinista revolution, jueces de mesta were converted largely into a network of informants for the National Guard, during which time they were also called orejas, or ears.

    (3) The cadejo in Central America is a mythical dog known to accompany those who wander late at night. In most countries, it is believed that there are two cadejos: the white, which is considered a benign protector and is compared with the Christian concept of a guardian angel, and the black, which is the embodiment of evil and is the opposite of the white (racist). Pablo Úbeda’s informal title was El Cadejo de las Segovias, the Segovias being a forest in north-central Nicaragua.

    (4) Three remote areas northeast of Matagalpa in north-central Nicaragua.


    1. Borge, Tomas. “The Patient Impatience”.

    2. Zimmerman, Matilde. “Sandinista: Carlos Fonseca and the Nicaraguan Revolution”.

    3. Baracco, Luciano. “Nicaragua: The Imagining of a Nation”.



    "I am the armor piercer, I am the guide,
    I’m forever an expert of the night
    The happy firefly of the guerrilla,
    I am the compass of a tough bullet.”

    Carlos & Luis Enrique Mejia Godoy's 1979 album Guitarra Armada may not have been a musical perfection; the rhymes were often simplistic, the singing sometimes subpar. Still, this remains one of my favorite albums if only for its incredible historical significance.

    Recorded shortly after the Sandinista National Liberation Front’s (FSLN) overthrow of Anastasio Somoza Debayle and its arrival in Managua on July 19, 1979, the album features a collection of songs which had dispersed among the revolutionary forces during the course of the popular insurrection, which had begun on a national scale in the final months of 1978 as a result of both the assassination of Pedro Joaquin Chamorro, editor of La Prensa, that January and the FSLN’s assault of the Presidential Palace in August.

    Despite this bold action, in 1978 the FSLN was a small, weak, and divided organization. Its leader, Carlos Fonseca, had been killed in action two years earlier, it was split into three factions, and by the beginning of that year had a membership of likely less than 200 militants, including its rural guerrilla army of 11 people.

    But as the insurrection took hold in previously inactive sections of the population, the FSLN took note that, despite the courage and audacity of the people, most had little to no military training, either in tactical maneuvering or in in the use of arms. Weapons manuals were not widely available, and would not do much good anyway: around half of the Nicaraguan population was functionally illiterate.

    The Mejía Godoy brothers Carlos and Luis Enrique, both members of the FSLN, took it upon themselves to try something creative. Given the small size of the Frente, it did not have the capacity to teach everyone street fighting or weapons use. So the brothers began writing and recording songs with the intention of creating easily dispersible and memorizable tracks with full instructions in military training. This song, called The Munitions, was written to instruct participants of the insurrection on the purpose and use of different kinds of ammunition—standard ammunition, incendiary bullets, tracers, and the fragmentation grenade. Four singers each take on the perspective of a particular ammunition and sing about their qualities in different battle scenarios. [Unfortunately I do not have the album booklet and can’t recognize any of the women singers except that of Mexican folk musician Amparo Ochoa, who takes on the perspective of the standard bullet.]

    This creativity and ability to respond to the moment was immensely helpful in allowing the FSLN (reunited into a single organization in January of 1979) and the Nicaraguan people to defeat Anastasio Somoza’s National Guard, one of the most disciplined and best armed military forces in Latin America, and to begin a revolutionary process based in new institutions of popular power.

    You’ll find an English translation below, done to the best of my abilities. Enjoy!


    Compañero, estas balas fueron recuperadas en la caida de Matagalpa. O sea, son balas que sirvieron al enemigo. Pero ahora que las tenemos nosotros, ya no son las mismas. Sabes por que, compita? Porque estas balas nos estan sirviendo ahora para conquistar la libertad.

    Echele borona compita Venancio, de las municiones écheme un sermón
    yo prefiero hermano, que por separado, haga cada bala su presentación.

    Yo por ser la común y ordinaria, me siento en un nivel muy inferior
    Soy la bala certera endemoniada, henchida de eficacia y de rigor
    Cobriza como un indio americano, por ser de furia voy a lo que voy
    desde que salgo al viento, voy buscando el mero corazón del opresor

    Yo soy la munición por excelencia, sin despreciar a nadie en esta lid
    mis posibilidades en la guerra explican el porque yo estoy aquí
    Como incendiaria grito “siempre lista!” y como perforante rauda voy
    Yo soy la rojinegra sandinista, yo soy por vocación la munición

    Yo soy la trazadora combativa, anaranjado vivo mi color
    No tengo propiedades expansivas, pero hago lo que puedo en mi fulgor
    Yo soy la quiebra placa, soy la guía, baqueana de la noche siempre fui
    Luciérnaga feliz de la guerrilla, soy brújula del recio proyectil.

    Yo que puedo decir de mis valores, si ni siquiera tengo proyectil?,
    Es como sin tener mecha ni llama, quisiera ser antorcha o ser candil
    En mi viudez de cápsula vacia, va el alma del hermano que cayó,
    lanzando en el umbral de su partida una granada de fragmentación.


    Compañero, these bullets were recovered during the fall of Matagalpa. In other words, they are bullets that served the enemy. But now that we have them, they are no longer the same. Do you know why, comrade? Because these bullets are now serving us in the quest for freedom.

    Sing it, comrade Venancio, give me a sermon about our munitions
    and I’d prefer, brother, that they each give me a separate presentation

    I, being the common and ordinary one, feel like I’m on an inferior level
    I am a damn accurate bullet, bursting with efficiency and rigor
    Copper like an indigenous American, in my fury I go where I wish
    from the time I enter the wind, I search for the heart of the oppressor

    I am the most excellent bullet without belittling anyone in this contest
    my potential in war explains the reason that I am here
    As an incendiary I shout “always ready!”, and as an piercer I am swift
    I am the Sandinista red-and-black, I am a munition by profession

    I am the combative tracer, bright orange is my color
    I don’t have expansive properties, but I do what I can with my glow
    I am the armor piercer, I am the guide, I’m forever an expert of the night
    The happy firefly of the guerrilla, I am the compass of a tough bullet

    What can I say of my value if I don’t even have a projectile?
    It’s like not having a wick or flame, I’d love to be a torch or candle
    In my empty-capsule widowhood goes the soul of a fallen comrade,
    launching a fragmentation grenade on the eve of his departure

  12. 34 years ago today, the Sandinista National Liberation Front entered Managua, after a year and a half of mass people’s insurrection, and officially overthrew the flailing Somoza dynasty that had ruled Nicaragua as a proxy for U.S. interests since 1936. President Anastasio Somoza Debayle had fled the capital two days earlier.

    Photo by Marcelo Montecino, who has a great Flickr page here.


  13. "My rest is to finish my work,
    my happiness is to fulfill my duty.
    So that the world may be more human,
    we have sworn to fight until victory!”

    Here’s a great song from the Salvadoran Civil War, by one of the most popular revolutionary groups of the era—Los Torogoces de Morazán. The quality is pretty bad because this was recorded in the guerrilla zones with the portable equipment of Radio Venceremos, but still understandable and very historically relevant.

    Soy combatiente del FMLN, guerrillero nacido en El Salvador.

    Me deleitan los colores que tiene mi bandera flameante bajo el sol!

    Por los cerros, vaguadas y volcanes se oye el canto ancestral del torogoz.
    Sus cantares impulsan mis afanes, mi divisa es ver libre a mi nación!
    Mi descanso es cumplir con mi tarea, mi alegría es cumplir con mi deber.
    Para que el mundo mas humano sea, hemos jurado luchar hasta vencer!

    Mis hermanos son los trabajadores que combaten la necia explotación,
    mi familia es todo el pueblo pobre, mi madrecita es la revolución.

    Por los cerros…….


  15. "compañero colombiano: con tu ingreso a las FARC, lograremos la paz."

    hoy tengo un viaje pa’onde Marulanda[1]
    voy porque quiero conversar con él
    es el gran hombre de costumbre sana
    estoy seguro que me va a entender
    si tengo que quedarme en la montaña
    con mucho gusto allí me quedaré
    colaborándole a los camaradas
    a esos que nunca han perdido la fe

    es que el pueblo ya… está cansado de humillación!
    con tanta maldad… así un gobierno no puede ser!
    para asesinar… hoy se disfraza el rico ladrón!
    frente a un militar… al pueblo le ha tocado perder!

    hay que encender el mechón, hay que luchar por la paz
    y no veo otra solución que unir fuerzas con las FARC

    "camarada Iván Márquez, un abrazo para usted y su adorada Lucía!"

    muy complacidos con el Plan Colombia
    está de fiesta entre los militares
    ya se oye un grito cantando victoria
    mientras masacran a un pueblo con hambre
    los gringos acabaron de aprobar
    una partida para los paracos[2]
    en la ciudad no hay donde trabajar
    y al campesino le han saca’o del campo

    pero puede mas… el pueblo unido con decisión!
    vamos a luchar… y así nadie nos podrá vencer!
    es que hay que acabar… con la avaricia del opresor!
    por eso las FARC… tienen que adueñarse del poder!

    hay que encender el mechón, hay que luchar por la paz
    y no veo otra solución que unir fuerzas con las FARC

    [1] Manuel Marulanda, dirigente militar de las FARC
    [2] “paracos” se refiere a paramilitares reaccionarios