Into Exile
The end of the war was drawing nigh,
The good guys heading for defeat.
But Anna and the baby lived to tell the tale
Though bombs had fallen on their street.
Her husband, Ton, was away at the front,
That is if he were still alive,
A committed "Red" - when the victors came
It was doubtful he would survive
How could she leave the town she loved?
But what were the options if she stayed.
Thousands were trudging the roads to France
And being strafed along the way.
She knew they'd brand her a "Commie whore"
What they'd do to her ran through her head.
But the thought they'd take her baby away
It filled her heart with dread.
She looked longingly at the fishing boats
As they set out, in the dark, to sea.
Any day now, Barcelona would fall
Surely one or two of them would flee.
How could she pay her passage with
A wedding ring and costume jewelry?
She looked at the baby she held in her arms
And in the mirror at her fine body.
When the boats came home, full of fish,
Ana was waiting in the port
She knew Pere Roig had fancied her
In their schooldays before the war.
"The fleet has been ordered to sail for France"
He said, when they'd unloaded their catch.
"You and me? Now there's a thing,
I always thought we'd make a good match!"
The fleet was impounded when it reached Cerbère
Crew and passengers ordered ashore.
No prospect of offering herself to him there
With hundreds on a warehouse floor
When the opportunity finally arose
He turned her face to his and he smiled
"I'd be as bad as the fascists, if I staked that claim,
Farewell and good luck with your child!"
.........................................................
Cap a l'exili
El final de la guerra s'acostava,
els bons s'enfronten a la derrota.
Però l'Anna i el nadó havien sobreviscut fins ara
tot i que les bombes havien caigut al seu carrer.
El seu marit, Ton, estava fora al front,
això si encara estava viu,
Un "Rojo" compromès, quan arribaren els vencedors
era dubtós que en Ton sobrevisqués.
Com va poder deixar la ciutat que estimava?
Però quines eren les opcions si es quedava...
Milers de persones caminaven per les carreteres cap a França
i eren ametrallades pel camí, des de l'aire.
Ella sabia que els nacionalistes la qualificarien de "puta comunista",
el què li farien li passava pel cap.
Però la idea que li prenguessin el nadó
omplia el seu cor de por.
Mirava amb enyorança els vaixells de pesca
quan sortien, a les fosques, cap al mar.
Qualsevol dia, Barcelona cauria, i
segurament un o dos d'ells fugirien.
Però com podia pagar el viatge?
Només tenia un anell de casament i bijuteria.
Va mirar el nadó que tenia en els braços
i al mirall es va mirar el seu bon cos.
Quan les barques van arribar a casa plenes de peixos,
Ana estava esperant al port.
Sabia que li havia agradat al Pere Roig
en els seus dies escolars abans de la guerra.
—La flota ha rebut l'ordre de navegar cap a França—
Va dir en Pere, quan van descarregar la pesca.
—Tu i jo? Mm... Això és una idea,
sempre havia pensat que faríem una bona parella—
La flota va ser confiscada quan va arribar a Cervère,
la tripulació i els passatgers van rebre ordres de baixar a terra.
No hi havia cap possibilitat d'oferir-s’hi allà
amb centenars de persones dormint al terra d'un magatzem.
Quan finalment va sorgir l'oportunitat
en Pere va girar la cara de l'Anna cap a la seva i somrient li va dir
—Seria tan dolent com els feixistes, si insistís a fer-ho.
Adéu i molta sort amb el teu fill.
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