When Europeans came to the new world, their first steps were accompanied by crimes on a grand scale, massacres, the destruction of empires, the obliteration of entire nations from the ranks of the living. Convulsed by the ambition for riches, in thrall to the cruel passion of avarice, they committed all manner of crimes out of a thirst for gold; this sordid passion is what drove the Spaniards to bring the lives of the unfortunate emperors of Mexico and Peru to such an ignominious end. It is on account of this passion that the brave and noble-hearted Guatimozin, worthy of a better fate, was thrust onto red-hot coals and left to die. For its sake, the valiant cacique Hatuey was fastened to a stake and burned alive. And for its sake, the hapless Indians were exterminated, and America decimated. What am I saying! This passion is the reason why the original population of my own native land has been annihilated! Why look any further afield for examples of savagery and destruction. O land of mine, is there any other on this planet whose soil has been more soaked in human blood? Is there a land whose ill-fated inhabitants have experienced greater misfortunes? Everywhere I step, everywhere I look, I see shards, vases, utensils, figurines, the forms of which bear the imprint and the traces of art's infancy. In more remote and solitary locations, in the caves of inaccessible mountains, I come across skeletons still intact, human bones scattered about and blanched over time, and I tremble. As my thoughts pause over these sad remains, these shards bearing witness to the life of a people who no longer exist, my heart is moved, I shed tears of pity and compassion for the wretched fate of those first inhabitants of the island! A thousand rending memories lay siege to my heart; a multitude of reflections crowd upon me, one after another in quick succession. So, there were men here before us! They no longer exist, here are their pitiable remains! They were destroyed! What had they done to suffer such a calamitous fate?