I guess it’s too late
To climb the hills
To hide in Sierra Maestra.
I guess it’s too late
To join the group
Of eighty two dreamers of dreams.
I guess it’s too late
To rail about
Casinos, the mafia and CIA.
I guess it’s too late
To join their ranks
And touch the ones who dared.
I guess it’s too late
To find I had
Ni un poquito miedo del muerte.
But it’s not too late
To hear their cry,
El grito de miles de voces.
It’s not too late
To see their land
Manifesting determined ideals.
It’s not too late,
It echoes still,
“La patria o el muerte!”
