The Indian



You can see in the eyes of migrant
Nostalgia producing children of their land,
More when it comes back looking for
The memory of a great past
Full of light and wonder created,
Find a being, himself, unknown,
And feel the yearning for the land
In which, being the outsider,
There was to host at home,
ACULLICO for not being the "Indian."


Almería, April 2009
José María Benito