Che-Judy Collins/James Mudriczki

One morning in bolivia the leader of the partisans and two of his companions were forced to flee the mountains for their lives through green and dusty villages they sped along the little roads the peasants smiled and shouted as they hurried by jesus called out to every one "don't think that we are leaving, they only tried to frighten us with guns, we shall return," continue with your work, continue with your talk you have it in your hand to own your life to own your land the people smiled and shouted and they ran along a little while the stood and watched, their hands were restless and empty the body of jesus was in the jeep that they blew up before it reach the plane The priest was proud to bless himfor what there was of him remaining in the afternoon Continue with your work, continue with your talk you have it in your hands to own your life to own your land there is no one who can show you the road you should be on they only tell you they can show you and then tomorrow they are gone The smell of oil and incense fill the room in this adobe hut where on the table lies the body of a man his face is pale and young, his beard is dark and curled pennies hold his eyelids from the evening light people from the village those who knew him, those who killed him stand inside the door, their hands are restless and empty they watch the priest make silent crosses in the air and pray to god inside their hearts for their own souls Continue with your work, continue with your talk you have it in your hands to own your life to own your land there is no one who can show you the road you should be on they only tell you they can show you and then tomorrow they are gone