It's from Almafuerte's Siete Sonetos Medicinales, "¡Piú Avanti!". English is not my native so it might not be a perfect symbolic translation. Just one of the poems I like and thought I could share.
Don't surrender, even surrendered
Don't feel slaved, even enslaved
Tremulous of dread, think yourself fearless,
And lash out fiercely, even wounded, even hurt
Have the tenacity of the rusted nail
Though old and ruined, becomes nail again.
Not the cowardly fearlesness of the turkey,
That folds its plumage at the mildest noise.
Proceed as God who never cries,
Or as Lucifer, who never prays,
O as the oakwood, whose greatness
Needs water and does not beg it.
May bites and yells of vociferous avenge yield your head,
Even rolling on the dust!