They were peaceful. They were called the Guaraní.
The Paraná Delta of Argentina – their native home.
It was theirs, theirs to rule, and theirs alone.
They lived from the fruit of harvest;
they were peaceful – the natives called Guaraní.
Amongst them lived a princess – her name was Anahí.
Strong bronzed limbs, piercing eyes, shiny as twilight,
courageous young woman, who in name only survived,
on a night when the river was silent – not a sound, not a one
as the Spanish fleet lurked in phantom ships
with bows pointed to evil ends, and
in their sinister mission, the burglars crept
to shore that night without moon, or stars
and in the name of Spain and its lesser god
they would rape the women – make men their slaves.
Without warning, their savage blast fell
upon the peaceful and unsuspecting, Guaraní
when from the black they appeared flaring
crosses, and raising torches and swards.
They bellowed orders to surrender; the Guaraní fought.
Anahí leaped to her tribe’s defense – strong,
determined, she fought as well as any man would.
From the shadows deep in the brush, she kept vigil
and waited – eyes on the predators, nostrils flaring
muscles tensing and she jumped!
Legs straddled his waist, taut arms – garrote,
she buried her knife in the Spaniard’s throat.
Torches flaring, weapons drawn, crosses waving,
they pursued, she fled, they called, she leapt
into shadows, lay low in the brush – hushhh….
Not a breath was heard, not a sound.
Sinister eyes abound and searching,
hers darting – alert, panting, sweating… she moved
and they found her!
She fought. She was strong – they were many.
She was captured and condemned to die –
Die Indian die by burning – die!
She endured in silence – no tears – no moans,
as she was set aflame – on a night such as that,
one without moon or stars – she burned and
as heroes and legends do, she bled upon
a page of history some have forgotten, somehow.

Carmen Ruggero©2005&2006

The above story is fiction. The native tribe Guaraní was real,
and the Spanish attacks on our Native population,
a historical fact.
Men were enslaved and forced into labor.
Women were captured and raped, the result of
which gave birth to the Argentine Mestizo – half native,
half white.  The belief was that the combination of Native
physical strength with the white, taller structure, would
create a stronger working class. These children were
later abandoned by the Spaniards.
The native population of Argentina is non existent.

The story of Anahí was a legend and according to it,
on the morning following her agonizing death, a tree
possessing her qualities grew on the very spot she died.
It has hardy brown limbs, a soft interior, and red blooms.
Its Spanish name is:  Ceibo, or Seibo – the Coral tree.

 On the 24^th day of November of 1942, the Ceibo
was declared the national flower of Argentina. Sources on
this information vary. Some indicate it was in December of
1942. 

Author footnote: Perhaps this needs clarification: As I
said above, the bloodshed was real. I fictionalized the
story in my poem because I mixed it with the legend.
Coral trees grow wild in that area. Their flower is deep
red in color. The coral flower was made our national
flower because of its color and the spot in which it grew. Naming it our national flower was to honor our Native population. The legend came out of fact, not the
other way around. ~Carmen Ruggero