Sugar cane worker, you wake up at dawn in the furrow, feeling the dew that baptizes you as a machetero (a sugar cane cutter). Your years of youth are not extinguished with the time that identifies the custom.
With machete in hand you challenge the stalk of the harvest, which travels to the sugar mill to extract its honey. The task of sugar distinguishes you in the field, in the open air and under the sun, with thirst often quenched by the waters of rivers and springs.
With a sense of belonging to the sugar land, you assume each day with the solidarity hope of optimism. But the light does not go out on the sweaty face of skin tanned by the sun. Your grandfather’s, father’s and son’s hand, wrapped in a machete in harvest time, identify the inheritance.
Sugar cane workers against adversities
How many early mornings surprise you in the very cold winter wind with a suit of fog and a coat of moon! But I understand that you live with your boots on the ground, with your arms challenging and your heart full of joys to make your work nobler.
With a figure sculpted in Quebracho, you are a Cuban machetero, who seeks the syrup in the burning cane field, fertilizing the furrow with good sacrifice.
With wild impetus you knock down every plantation with the conviction that you contribute an exportable item to an economy in need of your drive.
Today your arms and courage rise up as a song of love and hope. Your eloquent voice is replicated in every cane field. Today the sun that surrounds you admires your greatness that feeds the central with blood dyed with valuable sugar men and women.
