I met a man on the street the other day
and he held his hand out asking for money
- his breath hanging in the air smelling like rubbing alcohol -
And when I refused him and kept my pace, belligerent
he became and, turning back toward me on the street,
he began to scream at me like a spurned lover
Don't cause a scene, I wanted to say,
Don't embarrass me like this.
Nicaragua, how ugly you can be in your beauty,
how profane in your holiness,
how you can be like this man.
An innocent hand held out to the world
and, like a spurned lover, you are a wounded nation
and sometimes I want to scream back at you:
Don't cause a scene, no,
Don't embarrass me like this...