The subject of emigration has been a sad and very present part of my life since I was a child. I have said goodbye to so many family members and friends in these 60 years that I have almost no one left to say goodbye to. As a child in the 1970s, my beloved maternal grandmother suffered a stroke that kept her in bed for 9 years - without knowing anyone - until she died. That happened when she received the news that my uncle Ruben (one of her three children) was leaving with his whole family (wife and two children) to live in the USA. At that time, Cubans who decided to emigrate were considered traitors to the homeland and could not return.

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In the 80's, after my father's death, my brother Orestes also left - I was 18 years old - and I remember my mother crying inconsolably in the corners of the house. It was also at that time that many of my best friends left. It was a horrible episode in our history, plagued by empty slogans, kilometric speeches, and cruel acts of repudiation of all those who decided to leave trying to fulfill their dreams, to aspire to a better life.

In the 90's, the two sons of my brother Victor (the eldest) were both winners in the lottery for visas granted by the US government to Cubans. And of course, my older brother, my sister-in-law and my two nephews left... and again the farewells and the suffering of my mother who also emigrated a few years later because of the family reunification law. She passed away there - 5 years ago - and unfortunately I could not see her again since she left.

In August 1992, my first cousin Juan Carlos -with whom I grew up- went to sea clandestinely in a small boat bound for Miami with several friends, and was caught in the middle of the crossing by the terrible hurricane Andrew. They barely survived and held on until they were miraculously rescued. He himself told me about it many years later with trembling hands and tears in his eyes.

That's how I gradually ran out of family in Cuba, until I founded my own with @saraleo and his son Freddy 17 years ago. The massive stampede of family and friends to all corners of the planet is something that many of those who - like me - decided to stay on this island lost at sea have also had to suffer. Lately it has been in the news again precisely because of the gigantic emigration of its inhabitants, surpassing the previous statistics and running the risk -in many cases- of losing their own lives in the crossing.

This song; "A la luz de las estrellas", from my author's album "Mariposas de Papel", was written more than 20 years ago and is still incredibly relevant today. It is as if I had just made it right now, as if time did not move, as if we were living in an eternal reverie.

In the light of the stars

The breeze at the window
the mind does not stop
the dream hides again
the shadow doesn't get to know
the twists and turns that life follows
and when I understand it will be

Rolling the morning fell
resolute in the nets
and the fish that always escapes
left... with a promise in the air
and when I understand it will be

(You're growing in the routine
suspecting the truth
remembering the friends
who believed in the sea
and sitting at the table
with whoever wants to dine
then life weighs us down
each one in his place)

And we stay on the boardwalk
with the photos and some poems
with the footprints in the streets
in the starlight

The luck that surrounds you
moves in the calm
and you wake up in the storm
fear does not get to know
the twists and turns of life
and when you understand it will be

The waves recede
open... bitter
tired of time and salt
with a dry smell in the air
and when you understand it will be.

Liric and music: JC Piñol @rumbapoet

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My native language is Spanish, this text was translated by Deepl.com in its free version.

The images are my property.