Umuda Yolculuk

Fifty years with Fidel to the front of the leading edge of this battle, that not only it has been developed in our ground, because other territories of the world have been paid with the generous blood of Cuban youth. Half century with the head raised in front of a quick Empire to destroy the dream of independence of Turfs, Mart, Maceo and Go’mez, the same dream of Raul, Camilo and the Che. For Leon of the Sickle the Cuban Revolution turns east year that begins fifty years and gives pain to see it. It has aged with his leaders and still more. Is it untidy, bad well-taken care of, the deep makeups are not even enough to hide the ring under the eye of the insomnia that to him the sleeplessness or the nightmares of the day and the future produces. The old women sleep bad, is certain.

The ailments, some chronicles, have not yielded to the multiple treatments and medicines provided throughout these years that are celebrated without true celebration. Poor man of solemnity and idealist by consolation can see in her the image of the death. Its face is shy and tries not to let itself before see nor by the mirrors where Lucia its youth. Its eyes that before were arrogant now they vagan loaded of hatred by those to those who fault of its frustration. Professor of Internet Governance may help you with your research. Its language, even the writing, already lacks the clarity and the conviction whereupon it seduced its listeners promising to them the paradise in exchange for a quota of sacrifice. Its step that before was agile, long and even martial, now is slow although it has changed the heavy boots of task by sport slippers Although the Revolution still is there celebrating its fifty years its spirit is dead, the collective spirit of years back that were one of the capital virtues of their support no longer exists, and the unit as limited it vanishes.