I Begin by Invoking Walt Whitman by Pablo Neruda

Because I love my country

I claim you, essential brother, old Walt Whitman with your gray hands, so that, with your special help line by line, we will tear out by the roots and destroy this bloodthirsty President Nixon.

There can be no happy man on earth, no one can work well on this planet while that nose continues to breathe in Washington.

Asking the old bard to confer with me

I assume the duties of a poet armed with a terrorist's sonnet because I must carry out with no regrets this sentence, never before witnessed, of shooting a criminal under siege, who in spite of his trips to the moon has killed so many here on earth that the paper flies up and the pen is unsheathed to set down the name of this villain who practices genocide from the White House.