This is how it is and really so,
Brother, comrade, friend in exile.
We don an orange garment surrounded
By our armed foe. They demand of us life
And liberty, faith and food
Of the daily kind, the same ones
You seek in the enemy's land.
Go away, they say, take up your cross.
Give my body back, you say,
Send back this body as a remembrance.
My wife will agonize over my coming home
Too soon, my children will panic
For not bringing home some bacon
But they will learn to wipe their tears
And carry Mexico's morning moon.
Just send back my body to where it belongs.
I will join the three others that came home
In sealed boxes and sealed songs. Ay, ay,
Angel of the Cross, our angel, our cross.
Aurelio S. Agcaoili