Corazones fuertes
Beatriz Guzmán Velásquez
I write about the things that have made me strong. Things I reflect upon and make me sensible to the problems del Valle de Texas. I have been crossing el Rio Grande Bravo all my life seeing things that cannot be forgotten because most of them are harsh. Anyone rational would think to forget this land and move away because living here does not let las heridas sanar. But, el río me ha enbrujado con su cultura dolorosa and the strength it has to stay alive. Here I see poetry and art where life is complex, restricted y apretada dondé la gente se las ingenia para hacer fiestas. Aquí the river might go full with the cry of many hearts like mine, but it is worth living in a place where the hearts have been thrown back and forth over the river growing a hard cover de callos. Corazones fuertes that invent their own language at the rhythm del Rio Grande Bravo.
Because I, a mestiza,
continually walk out of one culture
and into another
because I am in all cultures at the same time,
alma entre dos mundos…
Gloria Anzaldúa, La conciencia de la mestiza: Towards a New Consciousness
Lenguage
Cambialé a esó me dices
without caring to see Jackie
Chan wearing
African clothes trepandose
en las palmeras con los pies atados to reach los cocos.
No me gustan esas peliculas dices bringing your hands on top
of your stomachpara descanzar your curved back on the sofa
covered with savanas alconchonadas.
Jackie swirls around
pipes and ends up tangled
resvalandose por ventanas
de edificios caros and you say
dad is at work and we should be watching
telenovelas con temas musicales de Juan Gabriel.
But I convince you
that in commercials
I can tell you what Jackie
says better than subscriptsbut by the time commercials
came I had forgottenso I made it up good for you
con final de telenovela
con vestido blanco y luna de miel.
Y luego vino Jackie Chan in Spanish
with his cut out language
y dijiste de broma
que estaba alrevesado
aprendiendo Inglés y luego Spanish
and you laugh making your
stomach giggle en un tranzé de
terremoto de ver a Jackie squinting his eyes
with every punch he gives.
But I do not tell you Jackie
lies in Spanish forgetting words
changing ideas
thinking Spanish can simply be said y me dices que
donde esta el casório
de Jackie y te digo que
horita esta perdido
running away in streets he does not know
speaking only espanol.
the tv kept on makingnoise that I did not
bother to understand
no es como aquí mamí
te digo las lenguas
no se mezclan they like
to belong in different worlds
conversing heavily about
one another sin el deseo
de aprender del otro.
Where do birds die?
They dream backwards crossing the river from el norte singing
Con perros mariachis aulladores. Del norte singing
corridos bajos of their harsh life living lejos de casa.
Buscan con el cuello chueco a la muerte singing
al Rio Grande Bravo that moves el Chalan slowly.
Y se trepan con cerveza zapatiando fuerte singing
memories de jardines de Reynosa con noches frescas.
Y no los ves morir pues son sagrados. Puentes singing
peace to nowhere. Finding tranquilidad para ellos without
wanting a claim in history, sin gran porte, forgetting
lo que los llevo allá y los regreso aquí. Pájaro
return to the shakira that blinds you, muerete singing.
Nino de mi ciudad
la calle repleta y un silencio invade a un nino
que cubre su rostro con sus sucias manos
por haber contaminado su alma con el negro
de la vida. And what does a child know of being alone
if the world is still a styrofoam ball, time
only decays life into grains of dirt
found in Reynosa, la frontera, dirt
serving to hide edificios carcomidos, el nino,
las palomas pacing morning’s time
con un suave llanto. Y mi mano
busca por billetes verdes thinking money alone
will cure things que se han enpolvado de negro.
Me detuve al ver que la manana no era negra
estaba fresca and could not tame the dirt
in the streets, no podia hacer que el nino
fuera importante y que lo tomaran por la mano
so it would not turn into those things that die alone
that no one claims and get buried by time.
I kept on walking, hanging my thoughts in time
y confieso que no trate de pedirle a los negros
santos que velaran por tí porque se que sus manos
estan atadas, deformed by the dirt
that has entered the church. Nino
leave the gum stained sidewalks alone
in the streets. Stop giving a loan
to peace with your silence, tell me the time
it took you para dejar de ser el nino
de alguien y llegaste a sobrevivir en la noche negra
and learned to breathe in a city filled with dirt.
Dame tu mano
para que toques mis manos
that have come to realize they walk alone
filled only by complaints, clean from dirt,
ignorant that the morning is a good time
to cross el Puente over el Rio Grande Bravo negro
para encontrar corazones postrados en las calles de ninos.
Y trato de desifrar tu cara de nino que almodaste con tus manos
negras but I cannot find your eyes or find your voice alone
in the city I have walked many times in, that has been scarred by the dirt.
Corazones Fuertes
My mom does not cry easily
cada gota de tristeza makes
her loose control
she feels weak sin soporte
contrólate she advices a los que quiere.
She often cries days later
y el llanto le viene
como soplo de hot air.
Mi papa llora with his
mouth shut empty lungs
con miedo de empezar the struggle of allowing
his pain que le gane,
for sadness to invade him,
que se quede adolorido.
A mi hermano le causan el llanto. He cries
when things are impossible
to stay. He cried for
the border that separated
us two years seeing each
other twice a week.
My tears slide easily when
I see others cry. I cannot cry
for myself. Estoy seca
my water has been used
to bloat el Rio Grande Bravo
just to separate.
We have never cried en presencia
de ese rio. Siempre antes o despues
de caminar a el.
We walk through it con dignidad
sin emocíonsin rencor
without wanting to think
that its a bridge taking
us to a different place.
Aquí
the river goes full
calm and dirty
cutting through
where I stand
with those
that have died
en las aguas verdes
de dos mundos
fríos
Aquí
se han enterrado
con llanto pensamientos
de una vida
that will not grow
for the river takes
all
the fertile soil
drugging people
to live
in the limbo
border state today
tomorrow
the next
Aquí
there are no marks
to follow
for I cannot walk
in the steps
taken by
those before
me for there is
no sand
Aquí
I’m scared to look
at the river
moving slowly
not letting me see
what lies beneath
y río va cansado de llevar
en su espalda
penas ajenas
inchadas
de esperanza.
Aquí
I’m lost
walking straight looking at
a thin horizon where few
can fit
y siento que
no puedo
ir hacía ya
pués nací
entre cables
de luz enredados
y tal vez mis
raizes no alcanzen.
Aquí
se separa
Aquí
me encuentro
tragandome
despacio
el anelo
de despellejar
la discriminacíon
so I can tell
this border
not to separate
not to live
for what
it was
made to do.
© 2012 Beatriz Guzmán Velásquez
Beatriz Guzmán Velásquez
I write about the things that have made me strong. Things I reflect upon and make me sensible to the problems del Valle de Texas. I have been crossing el Rio Grande Bravo all my life seeing things that cannot be forgotten because most of them are harsh. Anyone rational would think to forget this land and move away because living here does not let las heridas sanar. But, el río me ha enbrujado con su cultura dolorosa and the strength it has to stay alive. Here I see poetry and art where life is complex, restricted y apretada dondé la gente se las ingenia para hacer fiestas. Aquí the river might go full with the cry of many hearts like mine, but it is worth living in a place where the hearts have been thrown back and forth over the river growing a hard cover de callos. Corazones fuertes that invent their own language at the rhythm del Rio Grande Bravo.
Because I, a mestiza,
continually walk out of one culture
and into another
because I am in all cultures at the same time,
alma entre dos mundos…
Gloria Anzaldúa, La conciencia de la mestiza: Towards a New Consciousness
Lenguage
Cambialé a esó me dices
without caring to see Jackie
Chan wearing
African clothes trepandose
en las palmeras con los pies atados to reach los cocos.
No me gustan esas peliculas dices bringing your hands on top
of your stomachpara descanzar your curved back on the sofa
covered with savanas alconchonadas.
Jackie swirls around
pipes and ends up tangled
resvalandose por ventanas
de edificios caros and you say
dad is at work and we should be watching
telenovelas con temas musicales de Juan Gabriel.
But I convince you
that in commercials
I can tell you what Jackie
says better than subscriptsbut by the time commercials
came I had forgottenso I made it up good for you
con final de telenovela
con vestido blanco y luna de miel.
Y luego vino Jackie Chan in Spanish
with his cut out language
y dijiste de broma
que estaba alrevesado
aprendiendo Inglés y luego Spanish
and you laugh making your
stomach giggle en un tranzé de
terremoto de ver a Jackie squinting his eyes
with every punch he gives.
But I do not tell you Jackie
lies in Spanish forgetting words
changing ideas
thinking Spanish can simply be said y me dices que
donde esta el casório
de Jackie y te digo que
horita esta perdido
running away in streets he does not know
speaking only espanol.
the tv kept on makingnoise that I did not
bother to understand
no es como aquí mamí
te digo las lenguas
no se mezclan they like
to belong in different worlds
conversing heavily about
one another sin el deseo
de aprender del otro.
Where do birds die?
They dream backwards crossing the river from el norte singing
Con perros mariachis aulladores. Del norte singing
corridos bajos of their harsh life living lejos de casa.
Buscan con el cuello chueco a la muerte singing
al Rio Grande Bravo that moves el Chalan slowly.
Y se trepan con cerveza zapatiando fuerte singing
memories de jardines de Reynosa con noches frescas.
Y no los ves morir pues son sagrados. Puentes singing
peace to nowhere. Finding tranquilidad para ellos without
wanting a claim in history, sin gran porte, forgetting
lo que los llevo allá y los regreso aquí. Pájaro
return to the shakira that blinds you, muerete singing.
Nino de mi ciudad
la calle repleta y un silencio invade a un nino
que cubre su rostro con sus sucias manos
por haber contaminado su alma con el negro
de la vida. And what does a child know of being alone
if the world is still a styrofoam ball, time
only decays life into grains of dirt
found in Reynosa, la frontera, dirt
serving to hide edificios carcomidos, el nino,
las palomas pacing morning’s time
con un suave llanto. Y mi mano
busca por billetes verdes thinking money alone
will cure things que se han enpolvado de negro.
Me detuve al ver que la manana no era negra
estaba fresca and could not tame the dirt
in the streets, no podia hacer que el nino
fuera importante y que lo tomaran por la mano
so it would not turn into those things that die alone
that no one claims and get buried by time.
I kept on walking, hanging my thoughts in time
y confieso que no trate de pedirle a los negros
santos que velaran por tí porque se que sus manos
estan atadas, deformed by the dirt
that has entered the church. Nino
leave the gum stained sidewalks alone
in the streets. Stop giving a loan
to peace with your silence, tell me the time
it took you para dejar de ser el nino
de alguien y llegaste a sobrevivir en la noche negra
and learned to breathe in a city filled with dirt.
Dame tu mano
para que toques mis manos
that have come to realize they walk alone
filled only by complaints, clean from dirt,
ignorant that the morning is a good time
to cross el Puente over el Rio Grande Bravo negro
para encontrar corazones postrados en las calles de ninos.
Y trato de desifrar tu cara de nino que almodaste con tus manos
negras but I cannot find your eyes or find your voice alone
in the city I have walked many times in, that has been scarred by the dirt.
Corazones Fuertes
My mom does not cry easily
cada gota de tristeza makes
her loose control
she feels weak sin soporte
contrólate she advices a los que quiere.
She often cries days later
y el llanto le viene
como soplo de hot air.
Mi papa llora with his
mouth shut empty lungs
con miedo de empezar the struggle of allowing
his pain que le gane,
for sadness to invade him,
que se quede adolorido.
A mi hermano le causan el llanto. He cries
when things are impossible
to stay. He cried for
the border that separated
us two years seeing each
other twice a week.
My tears slide easily when
I see others cry. I cannot cry
for myself. Estoy seca
my water has been used
to bloat el Rio Grande Bravo
just to separate.
We have never cried en presencia
de ese rio. Siempre antes o despues
de caminar a el.
We walk through it con dignidad
sin emocíonsin rencor
without wanting to think
that its a bridge taking
us to a different place.
Aquí
the river goes full
calm and dirty
cutting through
where I stand
with those
that have died
en las aguas verdes
de dos mundos
fríos
Aquí
se han enterrado
con llanto pensamientos
de una vida
that will not grow
for the river takes
all
the fertile soil
drugging people
to live
in the limbo
border state today
tomorrow
the next
Aquí
there are no marks
to follow
for I cannot walk
in the steps
taken by
those before
me for there is
no sand
Aquí
I’m scared to look
at the river
moving slowly
not letting me see
what lies beneath
y río va cansado de llevar
en su espalda
penas ajenas
inchadas
de esperanza.
Aquí
I’m lost
walking straight looking at
a thin horizon where few
can fit
y siento que
no puedo
ir hacía ya
pués nací
entre cables
de luz enredados
y tal vez mis
raizes no alcanzen.
Aquí
se separa
Aquí
me encuentro
tragandome
despacio
el anelo
de despellejar
la discriminacíon
so I can tell
this border
not to separate
not to live
for what
it was
made to do.
© 2012 Beatriz Guzmán Velásquez
