Both of these passages come from “The country under my skin” by Gionconda Belli. I reached this via Bhupinder Singh.
We fill the craters left by the bombs
And once again we sing
And once again we sow
Because life never surrenders.
- anonymous Vietnamese poem
&
I dare say, after the life I have lived, that there is nothing quixotic or romantic in wanting to change the world… My deaths, my dead, were not in vain. This is a relay race to the end of time. In the United States, in Nicaragua, I am the same Quixota who learned through life’s battles that defeat can be as much of an illusion as victory.
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