Poems Penetrate Stone Walls

By Cassandra Baptista

His voice could not be muffled by stone walls or trapped behind cell bars. He was imprisoned for 22 years for standing by his convictions, and though isolated, he was left with his poetry--words that would set him free.

Ernesto Diaz-Rodriguez, poet and former political prisoner of Fidel Castro, spoke at the Portuguese Cultural Center on June 25th to an audience anxious to hear poems from his book, Piedra por Piedra: Stone for Stone--his sixth book published out of nine written while in prison.

Ernesto Diaz-Rodriguez reads an excerpt from his new book
of poems at the Portuguese Cultural Center in Danbury, CT.

In 1968, Diaz-Rodriguez was arrested and eventually sentenced to 40 years in prison after confronted Cuba's Communist Dictatorship. With the help of the French PEN Club and "Of Human Rights," Diaz-Rodriguez was released from prison on March 23, 1991 after serving 22 years. He was exiled from Cuba and now lives in Ridgefield, CT, a long way from the small fishing village of Cojimar, Cuba where he was born.

Diaz-Rodriguez sat in the Americo S. Ventura Library wearing a white buttoned down short sleeve shirt and a smile, as friends introduced him.

Attorney Americo Ventura, who is responsible for the library in the Portuguese Cultural Center, met Diaz-Rodriguez three years ago and organized the poet's new book presentation.

"Ernesto defends his principles with dignity and firmness, and he doesn't care what it is going to cost him," Ventura said.

As speakers introduced the poet, two thin pieces of paper covered in tiny, neat handwriting were passed through the audience. Not a single space was left unused. They were a few of Diaz-Rodriguez’s poems that were sneaked out of the prison through an elaborate network of friends – even as he remained in prison, his poetry escaped his cell.

Diaz-Rodriguez explained he always enjoyed writing, but his passion for poetry grew while in prison. “I write for the necessity of my soul,” he said. “I write to transmit an expression of love and hope.”

Diaz-Rodriguez’s wife, Dr. Alicia Perez sat in the front-row listening to love poems written about her. “I knew I wanted to marry Ernesto when I was 18 years old,” Perez said.

But they would have to go through two separate marriages and divorces, thousands of miles apart, and his 22 years of imprisonment before they could be together. Despite the couple’s distance, the poet explained that through his poetry, “Alicia lived in my memories and in my heart.”

For Francisco Pandolfi, a Danbury resident and audience member, Diaz-Rodriguez’s story of suffering and resilience had significance because he too, was born close to Havana, Cuba. “What I heard tonight was excellent,” Pandolfi said as he waited for Diaz-Rodriguez to sign his copy of Piedra por Piedra: Stone for Stone in a line of people running the full length of the room.

Even though he spent nearly a quarter century incarcerated, Diaz-Rodriguez does not feel his time was wasted.

“The 22 years in prison were a privilege for me in my life,” he said. “Not a year was lost. It was like college for me; I had a lot of rich experiences. The time that I was in prison might be the best time of my life because I was fighting for democracy and the welfare of my country.”