I am bound; still behind bars.

I am propaganda;
for the regime is against me.

I am an insult;
from one leader
to another,
I am passed around.

I am a cigarette,
covering my tracks;
this smoke
rises from the fire within me.
This time, the smoke
rises
from young trees.

I am smoke,
the prison’s tears,
when its heart
aches for the prisoners.
Oh, prison…
Everyone comes and goes,
but you remain
with your recurring sorrows
and your hidden tears.

From fiery lovemaking at night
to dancing in the square!
From glasses drunk on alcohol
to fear in a peaceful protest!
From kissing the gallows’ rope
to the kiss of freedom!
Oh,
what a path this has been…

Your Honor,
this verdict you have issued
is a ruler-toppling decree.