De
colores
|
|
  -De colores |
|
|
|
son los pajarillos |
|
|
|
que vienen de afuera |
|
|
|
-¡Ay Diosito -aquel de
allá |
|
|
|
porque el de aquí es
americano! |
5 |
|
|
dice tía
Lucía |
|
|
|
cuando ya no aguanta |
|
|
|
las pendejadas de los
mormones. |
|
|
|
|
-¿Quién te hace
quedarte en Utah? |
|
|
|
-le pregunta
papá |
10 |
|
|
su único hermano. |
|
|
|
|
-Pues, tienes razón
'nito |
|
|
|
-responde
ella- |
|
|
|
-y hasta ganas
tengo de volverme |
|
|
|
a mi tierra donde
no me tratarían |
15 |
|
|
como
extranjera |
|
|
|
pero aquí
tengo mi casa |
|
|
|
aquí trabajó mi pobre
esposo |
|
|
|
toda su vida |
|
|
|
y aquí me
voy a morir yo también. |
20 |
|
|
|
Pero aquí |
|
|
|
en su placita cerca de Provo |
|
|
|
ni la raza habla
español |
|
|
|
y el safeway no vende pozole |
|
|
|
no hay misa en español |
25 |
|
|
y todo el negocio de ser
humano |
|
|
|
hasta aquel del cielo |
|
|
|
se trata en inglés. |
|
|
|
|
Pero siempre tía
Lucía |
|
|
|
al madrugarse |
30 |
|
|
agarra su rosario |
|
|
|
y le reza en mejicano a su
Diosito |
|
|
|
aquel de allá |
|
|
|
porque este americano blanco de
aquí |
|
|
|
|
piensa que manda en todo el
mundo |
35 |
|
|
pero ella sabe que su Dios
verdadero |
|
|
|
pinta el cielo de colores |
|
|
|
y canta por los pájaros en
mil lenguajes. |
|
|
|
A
Cortés
|
|
De luna a luna, de horizonte a
horizonte |
|
|
|
navegando y encontrando la
inquietud del hombre. |
|
|
|
Navegando cielo a cielo,
días inquietos de soledad, |
|
|
|
el hombre de España,
molestaba nuestra soledad. |
|
|
|
|
Niño ciego, navegando sin
amor |
5 |
|
|
encontrando islas puras y
convirtiéndolas en dolor. |
|
|
|
Día por día tu tropa
asaltó, cogiendo nuestra isla pura; |
|
|
|
dejando un dolor eterno, |
|
|
|
que en continente se
convirtió. |
|
|
|
|
Satanás por tus ojos
mira |
10 |
|
|
fierro amarillo que te
enriqueció. |
|
|
|
Enviaste en él tu alma |
|
|
|
pero razón no te dio. |
|
|
|
|
Por brisa fresca pura,
vírgenes bosques te miró |
|
|
|
Moctezuma; conquistar no
conoció. |
15 |
|
|
Por lumbre: él sus pies te
aguantó |
|
|
|
pero la inquietud de tu alma
jamás te perdonó. |
|
|
|
|
Niños mestizos, hijos
indígenas de esclavitud |
|
|
|
busquen nuevamente su origen por el
océano azul. |
|
|
|
Océano frío, en tu
profundidad envió |
20 |
|
|
el corazón de un hijo,
ahogado por desprestigio. |
|
|
|
The
system
|
|
My parents' illusion of money |
|
|
|
eluded its true slavery, |
|
|
|
in a land where hunger «seized to
be», |
|
|
|
but finding only poverty |
|
|
|
y sin saber por
qué. |
5 |
|
|
|
Pero yo sabía mejor |
|
|
|
enslaved to their green god, |
|
|
|
«Cuero de
Iguana» |
|
|
|
that's all. |
|
|
|
|
Me metieron al instituto de
lincón |
10 |
|
|
y en clase de tontitos; |
|
|
|
porque no
sabía |
|
|
|
speak english. |
|
|
|
|
Below the grape vines all the time |
|
|
|
fighting off the wasps and heat of sun, |
15 |
|
|
y nunca conociendo
quién |
|
|
|
was right or wrong. |
|
|
|
|
Al fin me metí a UCLA |
|
|
|
determined to conquer their slavery: |
|
|
|
institutionalized, they say; |
20 |
|
|
but bad. |
|
|
|
|
¡Ora sí! |
|
|
|
I will strike back |
|
|
|
como fiera encabronada |
|
|
|
and with fury I never had. |
25 |
|
|
Caminitos
|
|
The pathways of my thoughts are cobbled
with |
|
|
|
mesquite blocks
|
|
|
|
and narrow-winding,
|
|
|
|
long and aged like the streets of san |
|
|
|
Fernando de Béxar
|
|
|
|
y la villa real de San
Antonio.
|
|
|
|
pensive |
|
|
|
y callados |
|
|
|
cada uno con su chiste |
|
|
|
idiosyncracy |
|
|
|
crazy turns |
|
|
|
that are because they
are, |
|
|
|
centuries magic |
|
|
|
and worn smooth, |
|
|
|
still intricate. |
|
|
|
cada uno hecho así, |
|
|
|
y with a careful |
|
|
|
capricho touch, |
|
|
|
así. |
|
|
|
They curl slowly into ripples, |
|
|
|
earthy and cool like the Rio
Medina |
|
|
|
under the trees |
|
|
|
silently singing, standing
still, |
|
|
|
and flowing, becoming, |
|
|
|
became |
|
|
|
and always as always, |
|
|
|
still fertile, laughing, loving, |
|
|
|
alivianada. |
|
|
|
|
Río Medina, |
|
|
|
under the trees, |
|
|
|
celebrating life. |
|
|
|
|
They end up in the monte, chaparral, |
|
|
|
llenos de
burrs,
spurs |
|
|
|
pero libres. |
|
|
|
|
Running through the hills freefoot |
|
|
|
con aire
azul, |
|
|
|
blue breaths peacefully taken |
|
|
|
between each lope |
|
|
|
remembering venado, |
|
|
|
remembering conejos, |
|
|
|
remembering |
|
|
|
where |
|
|
|
we came from. |
|
|
|
No llores, llorona -
La Guadalupe es soldadera
|
|
pistolera de las capillas |
|
|
|
cargada de listoncillos, |
|
|
|
papelitos y promesas, |
|
|
|
cargada de valor, |
|
|
|
justicia, y amor. |
5 |
|
|
|
pistolera de las capillas |
|
|
|
vela de los siglos |
|
|
|
generala de los milagros |
|
|
|
la vela
está prendida |
|
|
|
y la Guadalupe es
soldadera. |
10 |
|
|
|
«Madre mía de los
cielos |
|
|
|
ayúdale a mijo que salga de
la prisión. |
|
|
|
Ayúdale, Madre mía,
ten piedad |
|
|
|
me lo quieren encerrar y
matar. |
|
|
|
Aquí te dejo su retrato y la
vela |
15 |
|
|
pa' que sepas quien
soy». |
|
|
|
|
Y la Guadalupe es
soldadera |
|
|
|
la Guadalupe es
soldadera. |
|
|
|
|
«y mi manita se la
querían llevar |
|
|
|
mientras taba buelita con el
doctor |
20 |
|
|
y se la querían llevar |
|
|
|
porque decían que'ra
orfan. |
|
|
|
|
Y después que le di la
patada |
|
|
|
a la soshy worker, que se fue, |
|
|
|
me dio miedo |
25 |
|
|
pero no le dije na'a a na'ie. |
|
|
|
|
-No quería que se fuera a
apurar 'buelita. |
|
|
|
Y si viene la policía, |
|
|
|
yo la escondo, |
|
|
|
la escondo bien. |
30 |
|
|
¿Mi' ayudas,
eh?». |
|
|
|
|
Y la Guadalupe es
soldadera |
|
|
|
la Guadalupe es
soldadera. |
|
|
|
|
«I know the children should be sent home for
that |
|
|
|
but Yolanda's family can't afford- |
35 |
|
|
I know there are no exceptions to the
rule |
|
|
|
but the rule just doesn't make- |
|
|
|
I know my responsibility |
|
|
|
but I won't- |
|
|
|
Yes, Mrs. Reinhaus. |
40 |
|
|
Guadalupe, dame fuerza,
mañana iré a buscar empleo». |
|
|
|
|
Y la Guadalupe es
soldadera |
|
|
|
la Guadalupe es
soldadera. |
|
|
|
|
Pistolera de las capillas |
|
|
|
en silencio completo |
45 |
|
|
echas tu grito de guerrillera, |
|
|
|
extiendes tus manos, |
|
|
|
bendices la lucha, |
|
|
|
tiernamente |
|
|
|
navajeas el mapa a la pared, |
50 |
|
|
y comenzamos a
planear. |
|
|
|
La Guadalupe es soldadera. |
|
|
|
To mister Gabacho
«Macho»
|
|
-An on-the-street response
|
|
|
This is a different language, vato, |
|
|
|
and you better learn it quick. |
|
|
|
We're a talkin', Mr. Gabacho Macho |
|
|
|
and you're scared cause I'm a spic. |
|
|
|
|
You're hearin' and you're knowin' |
5 |
|
|
and when it rains it pours |
|
|
|
and just cause it's our English |
|
|
|
doesn't mean that it is yours. |
|
|
|
|
And you thought we didn't know it |
|
|
|
and were «language
disadvantaged» |
10 |
|
|
and suddenly we're educated, |
|
|
|
fluent, and de-savaged. |
|
|
|
|
And there's words a pourin' out |
|
|
|
that you never heard before |
|
|
|
and they can't just all be Spanish |
15 |
|
|
(like you learned once from that whore). |
|
|
|
|
There's words like ethnocentrism |
|
|
|
and gross deracination |
|
|
|
and eco-political hierarchy |
|
|
|
and cultural exploitation. |
20 |
|
|
|
And you're sure this isn't |
|
|
|
Pleasantville or Smithville U. S. A. |
|
|
|
or Tom, Betty, and Susan's home |
|
|
|
or even «Happy Days». |
|
|
|
|
No, this isn't Middle America |
25 |
|
|
or even upper lower... |
|
|
|
... It's barrio town we're walkin' through |
|
|
|
and your watch is runnin' slower. |
|
|
|
|
There's hunger here and anger too, |
|
|
|
and insult and frustration. |
30 |
|
|
There's words you never heard about |
|
|
|
like Gacho Agui-tay-shun. |
|
|
|
|
No, Gacho isn't Macho |
|
|
|
and we don't all carry knives |
|
|
|
and our women don't all go to mass |
35 |
|
|
nor our men all beat their wives. |
|
|
|
|
Our men head more than welfare lines |
|
|
|
and our women aren't so timid. |
|
|
|
and we don't steal fritos from your bowl |
|
|
|
or test Arrid to the limit. |
40 |
|
|
|
Here chili isn't a dish with beans |
|
|
|
it's a concentrated bowl of salsa |
|
|
|
and my sister isn't pregnant |
|
|
|
even though she is descalza. |
|
|
|
|
The only sombreros I ever saw |
45 |
|
|
were on the heads of tourists |
|
|
|
and the girl with a rose between her
teeth |
|
|
|
is working as a florist. |
|
|
|
|
And no, «te agilitaste» |
|
|
|
doesn't mean that you drank water |
50 |
|
|
And «cuidao, porque me
caliento» |
|
|
|
doesn't mean it's getting hotter. |
|
|
|
|
A project here's not what you do |
|
|
|
it's where you live, and trust
us- |
|
|
|
when we talk about«los
courts», |
55 |
|
|
we don't mean «centers of
justice». |
|
|
|
|
Sometimes you get the feelin |
|
|
|
we know this nation better'n you? |
|
|
|
Well, Lordy me - how smart you be! |
|
|
|
Cause that just might be true! |
60 |
|
|
|
This is a different language, vato, |
|
|
|
and you better learn it quick |
|
|
|
cause you see, Mr. Gabacho
«Macho», |
|
|
|
this woman here's |
|
|
|
a spic. |
65 |
|
|
Cruel
insulto
|
|
Cruel insulto que me arrojas |
|
|
|
con el dedo lento
de tu corazón, |
|
|
|
entre mil
insultos de tus serenos ojos |
|
|
|
buscando aliento
en el horizonte |
|
|
|
mientras yo te
ofrezco todo de lo más profundo- |
5 |
|
|
todo y retodo
veces más. |
|
|
|
|
Triste pensamiento que me
dejas |
|
|
|
solitario y sin
recurso |
|
|
|
que me agarra
como compañera involuntaria, |
|
|
|
enloquecido,
desesperado, víctima de su propio temor, |
10 |
|
|
mientras nos
afronta sonriente la fría soledad |
|
|
|
que nos indicas
sin palabra ni mención. |
|
|
|
|
Seca noria de la esperanza que me
sugieres, |
|
|
|
maldita ausencia
de la vida. |
|
|
|
|
Viejo nido del pasado que
sólo grita fantasía, |
15 |
|
|
fantasma,
recuerdo muerto, y desolación |
|
|
|
que me chupa el
jugo de las venas |
|
|
|
mientras oigo tu
pisar en el polvo |
|
|
|
de la distancia. |
|
|
|
Dead lipán
apaches
|
|
Dead Lipán Apaches shadow-shout through our
streets, |
|
|
|
on the rampage, angry spirits never dying |
|
|
|
even in you, once every six years, |
|
|
|
«Ayeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!» and thundering
happy hooves |
|
|
|
raise dust behind them |
5 |
|
|
on your civilized terrain. |
|
|
|
|
-Your composure you regain. |
|
|
|
And, civilized, sign their death
warrants, |
|
|
|
once again. |
|
|
|
(never completely free from the
echo |
10 |
|
|
of their shout,
«Ayeeeee»). |
|
|
|
Silver-armored soldiers shoot them dead, |
|
|
|
keep shooting through the thundering
corpses. |
|
|
|
But you and I both know |
|
|
|
that when the visor's up |
15 |
|
|
one can't see anything
inside |
|
|
|
except the inside side of
armor. |
|
|
|
|
-Only the soldiers are dead. |
|
|
|
Lipanes, centuries gone, all still
strong, |
|
|
|
thunder stronger through our head. |
20 |
|
|
|
-But you won't let them stop and chat, |
|
|
|
kiss, drink, be, make
love |
|
|
|
so they just charge
through, |
|
|
|
shouting mad. |
|
|
|
|
This time, I join them, |
25 |
|
|
thundering |
|
|
|
«Ayeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! |
|
|
|
New
song
|
|
lágrimas and loneliness |
|
|
|
and an open wound
|
|
|
|
once more attacked
|
|
|
|
|
and a distance doubled over on its
own echo, |
|
|
|
a death buried into its own corpse. |
|
|
|
|
I - a shawl of many colors |
|
|
|
woven from threads
opposing |
|
|
|
neither fine wine nor
adobe |
|
|
|
yet both |
|
|
|
and new music. |
|
|
|
|
Dances late into a spiraled
night |
|
|
|
secret and shout-songed
celebrations |
|
|
|
wild with black-skin
being |
|
|
|
fire emeralds in our eyes |
|
|
|
we dance. |
|
|
|
|
Dawns crawl into long torn moans |
|
|
|
Chilly red-eyed searching
howls |
|
|
|
following a path of scattered coals,
ash-grey and dead |
|
|
|
silent huddled moans alone |
|
|
|
rocking on my pelvic bone |
|
|
|
I mourn. |
|
|
|
|
Tonight - a dance. |
|
|
|
wild campfire glowing
risa |
|
|
|
gritos
through its
eyes |
|
|
|
Later - scattered coals, |
|
|
|
bitter cold |
|
|
|
and orphaned stumbles, moaning. |
|
|
|
|
Joy air rippling through free voices. |
|
|
|
|
Grimace chants of terror |
|
|
|
bleeding broken tears. |
|
|
|
|
lágrimas
and
loneliness |
|
|
|
woven through free song of
fire |
|
|
|
neither fine wine nor adobe |
|
|
|
yet both |
|
|
|
and new music. |
|
|
|
