Che 1997 by Mario Benedetti They have covered him with posters / with placards with voices on walls with retroactive offenses with honors that come too late they have transformed him into a product a trivial memory a distant yesterday a well-embalmed sense of rage they have decided to use him as an epilogue as the last gasp of useless innocence as an aged archetype of a saint or satan and perhaps they've discovered that the only way to get rid of him or let him fade away is to suck the light out of him make him into a marble or plaster hero which is to say motionless like a myth or silhouette or ghost from the past and yet che's unclosable eyes keep staring at us as if they couldn't stop maybe they're surprised that the world doesn't understand that thirty years later he still fights caringly and bravely for the joy of mankind