There are sacrifices, pains and sorrows that sometimes kill optimism, but love regains its throne and life goes on for them, peace prevails and the years of a family that grew up between tenths and songs, between work and study, to the Waiting for better times, it becomes pleasant and solid, able to show unbelievers and negatives that only love fertilizes life, only love achieve happiness and convert the impossible into true, the distant into close, the family in that mantle of love and commitment that binds us and takes away our sleep, purifies us and makes us believe that light will always be made when love triumphs and convinces with its many deep nuances.
Take February this flower from the garden of my savannah, cut well in the morning for the day of love.
I have looked for the best one, the one on the bank of the river, the one that grows in the gloomy, under the bower, I give it to you, dotted by the drops of dew.
It is the day of love, it is fourteenth of February for true love the caress of a flower, no matter what color, a rose, a bell, tender as the morning of a spring day, for the bride who looks forward to the window."
The author of these verses is a local peasant, descendant of islanders, who is over 80 years old and formed with his wife a beautiful family that is his main pride. That woman who has always followed him and who has fought hand in hand with his man to overcome and be happy beyond all those limitations and pains that make us think sometimes that life has been cruel to us is White's girlfriend hair that still awaits him peeking out the window.
Ramón Capote Martín built a humble but harmonious home with his longtime companion Enriqueta Pérez, where the children grew up happily among the strings of their three peasants, good customs and attachment to revolutionary and socialist ideals. Love nurtured that family because love was the best ingredient for that couple who has been together for more than 50 years and remains united and loyal to the youthful dreams that once captivated the charms of both boys until they took them forever to the altar.
The flowers, the poems, the serenades, the flattery and love secrets have been with them as if it were a long career where the fatigue of so many years does not dent heroism or dampen the energies. There will always be an incentive, a son, a grandson, a pleasant or sad news that will make them meet, become complicit and together make life more joyful.
Take February this flower from the garden of my savannah, cut well in the morning for the day of love.