Libra — autumnal equinox

  

-

La balanza se tambalea entre la vida y la muerte.

Cuando reces al Sol y a la Tierra

reconoce que tú eres la respuesta de la Madre

cuando actúas como sanador, sanadora 

y obras por la Tierra, la justicia, la paz.

 

The balance teeters between life and death.

When you pray to the Sun and the Earth,

know that you are her answer 

when you act as healer

and work for the Earth, justice, peace.
  

 

-

 
--------------------Libra



Alumbran a la balanza del día y la noche,
el zafiro temprano del amanecer
y el ópalo tardío del atardecer.
Se alza en obelisco de jade, de nefrita
al punto cardinal del aire,
el apoyo del viento,
----y en cada platillo de cobre
se miden el arte y las consecuencias
---(el amor pesa en la ijada
----de la indecisión,
----en los lomos del deseo.)
La alzaprima del otoño
sostiene sobre el caos,
trémulos y vacilantes
----el sentir, el pensar —
-----------amor, belleza, verdad —
sueños, siempre sueños, justos sueños. 



-----------------------© Rafael Jesús González 2021




----------------Libra

 
The balance of day and night
is lit by the early sapphire of dawn
-----and the late opal of dusk.
It rises on obelisk of nephrite, of jade
to the cardinal point of the air,
the lever of the wind,
----and on each copper plate
----are measured art and consequences
--------(love weighs on the back
---------of indecision,
---------on the loins of desire.)
The fulcrum of autumn
holds over chaos
tremulous and irresolute
----feeling, thought —
--------love, beauty, truth —
dreams, always dreams, just dreams.



---          ----------© Rafael Jesús González 2021


- 

International Day of Peace

-

1:00 - 2:00 pm, UC Berkeley Teach-in 

4:00 - 6:00 pm, Tea Party at Pelosi's

    We Are Cursed with War

We are cursed with war —
akin to greed & driven by it;
it is voracious, devours 
the men, women, children
of its object, and the men
& women forced to wage it.
And too many of us forced
to pay for it go hungry, 
without homes, without 
medicine, without education,
while billionaires gorge at its
bloody trough. Defense 
they call it, waged in our
interests, these disastrous
wars whose only interest 
they serve is of the wealthy
one percent and waste life
and waste the Earth. The time
is ripe for a revolution of the
heart, against war, against 
the economics of destruction
against the raping of the Earth.



                © Rafael Jesús González 2021   

        Maldecidos con guerra

Estamos maldecidos con guerra
similar a la codicia e impulsada 
por ella, es voraz, devora
los hombres, mujeres, niños
de su objeto, y los hombres
y mujeres obligados a hacerla.
Y muchos de nosotros obligados
a pagarla pasamos hambre,
sin techo, sin medicina, sin educación,
mientras los multimillonarios se hartan 
en su comedero ensangrentado. 
Defensa le llaman, hechas en nuestros
intereses, estas desastrosas guerras 
cuyo único interés que ellas sirven 
es de los ricos uno por ciento 
y desperdician la vida y desperdician 
la tierra. El tiempo está maduro 
para una revolución del corazón, 
contra la guerra, contra la economía 
de la destrucción, contra la violación
 de la Tierra.



                            © Rafael Jesús González 2021           


      
-

full moon: Moon Near the Fall Equinox

-

Moon Near the Fall Equinox

Sky jeweler’s scale

lost a plate and bright gems strew

the black velvet night.

                    © Rafael Jesús González 2021

        

Luna cerca del equinoccio otoñal

La balanza del joyero del cielo

perdió un platillo y joyas brillantes riegan

el terciopelo negro de la noche.

                    © Rafael Jesús González 2021

-

Mexican Independence Day

  -

   Breve historia de un grito

Trescientos años después 

de la conquista se alzó el grito 

de dolores, grito de un pueblo
adolorido por independencia
del imperio. Veinte y unos años
después de ser independiente 
México perdió mas de la mitad 
de sus tierras al más joven 
impero del norte.
Y expulsando otra invasión
y sufridas otras tiranías
se hizo por revolución el grito
dolorido. De eso hace cien
y más años. ¿Qué puede decir 
una historia del hambre, la sed,
el dolor, la pena, el sufrir 
de la que se hace?
La injusticia echa raíces muy largas. 
Deshacerse de un yugo no es ser
libre, deshacerse de un yugo no es
lo mismo que lograr la justicia.
La lucha sigue. Pues ¡adelante!
mexican@s, chicano@s adelante mundo. 

La lucha sigue hasta la justicia.

¡Hasta la justicia sigue la lucha!

                                

                        © Rafael Jesús González 2021

(Somos en escrito, septiembre 2021; derechos reservados del autor)

                                     


         Brief History of a Cry

Three hundred years after 
the conquest, the cry of Dolores 
was raised, the cry of a hurt people
for independence from the empire. 
Twenty & some years
after being independent 
Mexico lost more than half 
of its land to the younger 
empire of the north.
And expelling another invasion
and suffering other tyrannies
the painful cry was made
for revolution. That was a hundred
and more years ago. What can a history 
say of the hunger, the thirst,
the pain, the sorrow, the suffering 
of which it is made?
Injustice sends very long roots. 
Throwing off a yoke is not to be
free; throwing off a yoke is not
the same as attaining justice.
The struggle goes on. So, onward
Mexicans, Chican@s onward world!
The struggle goes on until justice.
Until justice, the struggle goes on!

                             © Rafael Jesús González 2021

(Somos en escrito, septiembre 2021; author’s copyrights)

-

International Day of Peace: UC Berkeley Teach-In, Tuesday, Sept. 21

 -

International Day of Peace: 

UC Berkeley Teach-In

Join us at UC Berkeley for Presentations, Performance, Poetry, Polar Bears and Pizza! 

We've had enough of the War Economy and forever wars, brought to you by the Pentagon, Lockheed-Martin, Chevron, BlackRock Worldwide Investments, and funded by Congress, led by Speaker Nancy Pelosi. War is Killing the Planet and it has to stop! 

Teach-In Topics:

• The War Industry, the Climate Emergency, COP26
• Cut The Pentagon Budget & Barbara Lee's Legislation
• End U.S. Support for the Saudi-led War on Yemen
• Cantastoria: "Billionaires for War", in which Lockheed-Martin, Chevron, BlackRock, the Pentagon, Nancy Pelosi & the war-profiteering industry demands of continual war.
• Poet Laureate of Berkeley, Rafael Jesús González

If we want a habitable planet and true peace, we need to "connect the dots", Cut The Pentagon budget and invest instead in clean energy, eliminate student debt, fund Medicare for All, a Green New Deal, living wages, affordable housing - the things that support life on this beautiful planet. End the war economy. We deserve a Peace Economy.

Co-Sponsors: CODEPINK SF Bay, Extinction Rebellion Peace, Hands Off Yemen, Diablo Rising Tide, San Francisco Physicians for Social Responsibility, Xochipilli Chicano/Latino Men's group, United Against War and Militarism, Yemeni Alliance Committee, PDA-SF and PDA Oakland

 WHEN

September 21, 2021 at 1:00pm - 2:00pm (PDT)

 WHERE

UC Berkeley Sproul Plaza
Bancroft Way & Telegraph Ave, San Francisco, CA 91720, United States, 

Google map and directions

 

9/11 Twenty Years After

  -

-
The date of September 11 is a day of tragedy for more than one reason.

photo by Marty Lederhandler AP

The eleventh day of the ninth month is a day painful to mark. On this day in 1973 the duly elected government of Chile was overthrown by instigation and with the active support of our government and the CIA, bringing a reign of terror that lasted for almost twenty years. On this day in 1991 my beloved comadre Guillermina Valdés de Villalva, founder of the Colegios de la frontera, was killed in a Continental Airlines plane crash near Houston, Texas. Ten years later on this day in 2001, twenty years ago, the twin towers of the World Trade Center in New York were brought down by terrorists.

With the destruction of the Towers went a great part of our slowly developing democracy, an accomplishment, not of foreign terrorists, but of our own government, a plutocracy* closer to fascism* than to anything else.

Now, twenty years later, after a series of criminal wars, the world economy depressed by the knavery of the corporations and banks, great abuse of human rights, facing climatic disaster, living a terrible pandemic, fascism has never been more real in the nation. We are faced with the terrifying threat of an absolute fascism (backed by the corporations, the wealthy 1%, and hoards of the unsatisfied, resentful, racist, violent) and a challenged hope of democracy. The options presented to us by the establishment are real but dismaying — and so many of us in state of denial.

The day of September 11, 2001, I wrote the following words — and, vindicated by the events of the intervening years, I stand by them:

Love and Thoughts to my Friends on a Dark Day

Since early this morning when a friend from New England called with the news of the destruction of the World Trade Center towers in New York, I have been in a daze, too stunned to sort out my feelings, my thoughts except for confirmation of my deep abhorrence of violence. Certainly pain and anger are there — and great fear.

I have not been able to get through to my friends in New York nor to my friends in Washington, D.C.; I do not know if they are well or not.

And despite the images on television, there is disbelief. How could it happen here? How could it happen to us? The mightiest contemporary nation, the current most powerful empire is vulnerable. Seeing the images of the twin towers, symbol of the greatest wealth and power on Earth, flaming, smoking, and finally collapsing against the skyline of monoliths that is New York made me think, in the midst of the horror of it all, of Goliaths falling in the plain. The Earth is shaken by their fall; the death, the pain suffered by so many through their fall wrings the heart. I am stunned by the pain of it.

But who the Davids are we do not know. Certainly not heroes to me nor to any one I know; villains rather. Davids in size only. But still, seeing some televised images of jubilation in parts of Palestine/Israel, they must be heroes to some — and to some in other places of the world as well.

Terrorism is a frightful term; even more horrible is its reality. What does it mean? Webster’s New World Dictionary succinctly defines it as: 1) use of terror and violence to intimidate, subjugate, etc., especially as a political weapon or policy; and 2) intimidation and subjugation produced in this way. Terror.

I see those images of jubilation on the television and I wonder what could induce such elation at such destruction, such death, such suffering. Terror. Terror like that in New York today except on a smaller scale, day to day terror at the hands of Israeli soldiers, and terror in response, and then more terror in retaliation — a story without end.

The day to day terror in Iraq with children ill and no medicine with which to treat them, little food to give them. The day to day terror in Nigeria and other parts of Africa. The day to day terror in so many parts of Latin America, of Asia, of everywhere. A policy, a political weapon to subjugate.

And who has most to gain by it? A hundred images come to mind, but a simple, nagging cipher blinks on and off against them all: we in the United States are six percent (6%) of the world’s people and yet we consume sixty percent (60%) of what the Earth gives. (And, we hold the highest proportion of our people in prison.) These are formulas of terror.

And we are vulnerable. And I think — the only protection is justice. The only protection is to be so just, so fair that none would wish us ill. No, not even the gods are so just, but if only we tried. If only we concerned ourselves with sharing the Earth’s wealth with everyone of our brothers and sisters. If only we honored the Earth and protected her so that she might continue to sustain us. If only we honored each other. If only we honored life.

I would like to think that we could respond to this horror in New York and Washington, D.C. with a commitment to justice for the world. Not merely the primitive, crude vengeance and retaliation I hear demanded, but true justice that would put an end to terror, not only the terror such as that of this day in New York and in the Capital, but the day to day terror of hunger, of lack of medicine, lack of shelter, of education, of freedom and the violence all that brings. Terror.

But what I see does not make me hopeful. I am afraid. I am afraid of our institutionalized terrorism, our policies of terror that hold the world in thrall. I am afraid of the man in the office of President of the United States who was not elected into office, afraid of his associates, afraid of the Supreme Court which has broken its trust as impartial interpreter of the law of the land. I am afraid of this President who would destroy the Earth for the profit of it, who insists upon an insane system of nuclear “defense” to further enforce a policy of terror.

I am afraid for the peoples of the world. I am just as afraid for us citizens of this United States. I am afraid that the tragedy of today will be used to justify the destruction of what freedom, what civil liberties we have, of a democracy for which clearly the President of the United States and his ilk have no respect.

I am afraid of Goliaths and of the Davids they breed.

But still, more deeply rooted than my fear is my love of the Earth and of its people and of all our relations. Because of this, I trust that our work toward justice and peace will go on in joy of life and that, for all the darkness, it will prevail.

Berkeley, September 11, 2001

--------------- The Towers

------------September 11, 2001

The towers fall as if,
-----seen through crossed eyes,
a Goliath fell brought down by a David.

Behind the myths
-----who of us is the guilty?
---------Who the innocent?
What is the distance
-----between justice and vengeance?

Death is inevitable, not fair.
And when the innocent are caught
in the webs of violence, it is terrible.

May the Earth hold them in rest.
If we would make a monument
worthy of their deaths,
in honor and memory of them,
let us pledge ourselves
----- to freedom,
----- true justice,
------world peace.

For if death be not just
let just be our lives.



----------~ Rafael Jesús González 


(Abalone Moon, Nov. 6, 2007; author's copyrights)


 

photo by Marty Lederhandler AP

------------Las Torres
 
---------11 septiembre 2001

Se derriban las torres como
-----si visto por ojos cruzados,
cayera un Goliat abatido por un David.

Detrás de los mitos
-----¿quiénes somos los culpables?
----------¿quiénes los inocentes?
¿Cual es la distancia
------entre la justicia y la venganza?

La muerte es inevitable, no justa.
Y cuando los inocentes caen
en las redes de la violencia, es terrible.

Que la Tierra los tenga en descanso.
Si monumento hiciéramos
digno de sus muertes
en honor y memoria de ellos
comprometámonos
-----a la libertad,
-----a la justicia verdadera,
-----a la paz mundial.

Que si la muerte no es justa,
justas sean nuestras vidas.

----------~ Rafael Jesús González 


(Abalone Moon, noviembre 6, 2007;
derechos reservados del autor)

New York skyline, 9/11/01

On a more personal level, it was on September 11, 1991 that my beloved comadre, scholar, organizer, activist, founder of the Colegios de la Frontera Guillermina Valdés de Villalva was killed when a Continental Airlines airplane crashed near Houston, Texas. Sick with pain and rage, I wrote: 

Huehuecóyotl

---Advertencia De Coyote

-----------------------para Guille

Siempre lucharé por lo bueno,
corazón en el hocico,
un grito en el corazón
y el corazón en el grito.
Por eso anoche bailé,
-----tiré la chancla,
---------wriggled my butt,
--------------meneé el culo
hasta las horas escuincles
de la madrugada
porque tal como a algunos nos toca
hacer penitencia por otros
a otros nos toca hacer
la gracia por los demás
y por eso les prometo
que seguiré meneando el culo
hasta que ya no lo pueda
y mantendré verde el rabo
hasta que me lo tape la tierra.


---------~ Rafael Jesús González 

(Siete escritores comprometidos: obra y perfil; Fausto Avendaño, director; 

Explicación de Textos Literarios vol. 34 anejo 1; diciembre 2007; 

Dept. of Foreign Languages; California State University Sacramento; 

derechos reservados del autor.)

Guillermina Valdés

---------Coyote’s Notice

--------------------------for Guille


I will always struggle for the good,
heart in the snout,
a cry in the heart
and the heart in the shout.
Thus I danced last night,
-----tiré la chancla,
---------wriggled my butt,
--------------meneé el culo
until the puppy hours
of the morning
because such as it is for some
to do penance for others
for others it is up to us
to make grace for the rest
and so I promise
I will continue to wriggle my butt
until I cannot
and I will keep my tail green
until it is covered by dust.


---------~ Rafael Jesús González 



It was on September 11, 1973 that the U. S. C.I.A.-instigated military coup in Chile overthrew the legally elected and popular government of Salvador Allende initiating an era of brutal dictatorship and bloodshed.  President Allende was murdered as was the poet-composer Víctor Jara among thousands of others. The aging poet Pablo Neruda was held under house arrest where he died soon after.

bombing of the Palacio de la Moneda, the Presidential headquarters 

--------Rastro de la gota
----------------------a Pablo Neruda

------------------I

Te recuerdo en Holanda
donde las rosas carecen de olor
y el alma que le diste a la máquina
no conoce a la gente.
Tu vicio es vicio de amar
y en tu lengua hasta el cardo
-----sabe dar miel —
hay sangre como la de Federico
-----que sabe doler.
Pero aquí las pupilas son de vidrio
y la desesperación es una gota de agua
que se escurre por los canales dorados,
no de limones sino de hojas muertas.

---------------------II

Hace nueve años que en Holanda
te compuse un verso —
----lleno de agua, hojas secas
----y visión de limones.

Era noviembre —
--------------------es ahora octubre —
el diez cuento mis treinta y ocho
y te has muerto.

Te pienso amapolas y geranios —
el cuero de España y Chile ensangrentado —
hambre, sed,
---------------uvas y luceros.
Hay inventarios en mis huesos
y ortigas en los surcos de mis dedos.

Poeta — me faltan azucenas de consuelo.
------Poeta — me duele Chile
-----------como una punzada en el cerebro.
------Poeta — estoy entumido;
lo único que siento es que has muerto.



-----------------~ Rafael Jesús González 


------(El hacedor de juegos/The maker of Games;
-------Casa Editorial, San Francisco 1977;
-------derechos reservados del autor.)  




---------Track of the Drop

---------------------------to Pablo Neruda

----------------------I

I remember you in Holland
where the roses lack color
and the soul you gave the machine
does not know the people.
Yours is the vice of loving
and on your tongue even the thistle
----knows how to give honey —
there is blood like that of Federico
----that knows how to hurt.
But here the pupils are of glass
and despair is a drop of water
that runs through the canals golden,
not with lemons but dead leaves.

---------------------II

It has been nine years that in Holland,
I wrote you a poem —
------full of water, dry leaves
------and a vision of lemons.

It was November —
--------------------now it is October —
on the tenth I count my thirty-eighth
and you have died.

I think you poppies and geraniums —
the skin of Spain and bloodied Chile —
hunger, thirst,
----------------grapes and stars.
There are inventories in my bones
and nettles in the furrows of my fingers.

Poet — I lack lilies of consolation.
-----Poet — Chile pains me
--------------like a sting in the brain.
-----Poet — I am numb;
the only thing I feel is that you are dead.


--------------~ Rafael Jesús González 

(Laughing Unicorn, Fall 1980; author’s copyrights)

Pablo Neruda

The death of poet musician Víctor Jara has become a legend, almost a popular myth. It is told that being held in the Stadium of Santiago de Chile among the multitude of political prisoners, he took his guitar and began to sing. His songs being so popular, the other prisoners accompanied him. The guards then grabbed his guitar and stomped it to pieces under their boots. Then with their bayonets they cut off Victor’s hands. According to the story, Victor continued singing until, his blood draining into the sand, he died.

jacket of one of Víctor Jara's albums

-----------Las manos

-----------------------a Víctor Jara

Cada cuerda rota
una de seis flechas pintadas
que el arco de tu voz lanza
contra la injuria —
cada dedo un punzón
en la conciencia

---cada gota una nota contra el silencio.

Caen las aves negras,
sus plumas nieve enlutada,
en la memoria
donde la sangre hierve

---cada gota una nota contra el silencio.

Las manos caen en la arena,
cada una una fuente roja
que corre hacia un mar sin islas

---cada gota una nota contra el silencio.

Hermano, los gorriones se espichan;
se han roto los cántaros del tiempo
y tu canto corre por el mundo entero

---cada gota una nota contra el silencio:

---cuando la sangre crece alas
---se le llama libertad

---cada gota una nota contra el silencio.


--------------~ Rafael Jesús González 

(Siete escritores comprometidos: obra y perfil; Fausto Avendaño, director; 

Explicación de Textos Literarios vol. 34 anejo 1; diciembre 2007; 

Dept. of Foreign Languages; California State University Sacramento; 

derechos reservados del autor.)

Víctor Jara

----------The Hands

----------------------to Víctor Jara


Each broken string
one of six painted arrows
the bow of your voice sends
against outrage —
each finger a lance
in the conscience

---each drop a note against silence.

The black birds fall,
their feathers snow in mourning,
upon memory
where the blood boils

---each drop a note against silence.

The hands fall on the sand,
each a red fountain
that runs toward a sea without islands

---each drop a note against silence.

Brother, the sparrows grow shy;
the jars of time have broken
and your song runs through the world

---each drop a note against silence:

---when the blood grows wings
---it is called freedom

---each drop a note against silence.


---------------------~ Rafael Jesús González 



(Second Coming, Vol. 14 no. 1, 1986;
The Montserrat Review #4, 2002;
nominated for Pushcart Prize;
author’s copyrights)

* * *

Now September 11 is to be celebrated as a day of pain and infamy which only our work for a whole Earth,  justice, and peace may redeem.
-
-

A New Grito for Change, Wednesday, September 15

 -

Español abajo

Mexican and Central American Independence Day Celebration 

A NEW GRITO FOR CHANGE

On September 16, 1810, Father Miguel Hidalgo delivered the Grito de Dolores, a declaration of independence from Spanish colonialism; and a call for the abolition of African slavery, for an end to the caste system exploiting Indians, and for social and economic reform. Today, Mexicans and Central Americans are forced out of their home countries by a history of U.S. military intervention and exploitation, including International Monetary Fund and World Bank debt payments, imposed austerity programs, privatization schemes and “free trade” agreements: U.S. corporate domination to create a source of cheap labor. People that migrate to the United States face ICE repression, denial of their right to organize and lack of legal enforcement of workplace protections: forcing them into low-wage jobs.

Join us in a New Grito: a call for worker rights for all such as human rights, independence from poverty, full legalization and fair trade not exploitation!

Performances by Diana Gameros, Francisco Herrera, Enrique Ramírez, Elizabeth Esteva and Diego Sardaneta

poetry by Rafael Jesús González and Nancy Esteva

presentations by David Frías, San Francisco Living Wage Coalition; Sara Terry Manríquez and Elvia Villescas of Las Hormigas; Karen Oliva, Committee in Solidarity with the People of El Salvador; Porfirio Quintano, Hondurans in the Diaspora; Meredith Wilkinson, Network in Solidarity with Guatemala; Diana Bohn, Nicaragua Information Center for Community Action; and David Bacon, Dignity Campaign organizing committee

Wednesday, September 15 

6 p.m. to 8 p.m.

Register in advance for this virtual event: 

https://bit.ly/NewGritoforChange

free

Donations to benefit the San Francisco Living Wage Coalition, Las Hormigas of Ciudad Juárez, Trabajo Cultural Caminante and Bay Area Committee in Solidarity with the People of El Salvador

For more information, contact (415) 863-1225 or sflivingwage@riseup.net or visit www.livingwage-sf.org

Celebracíón del Día de Independencia Mexicana y Centroamericana

UN GRITO NUEVO PARA CAMBIO

El 16 de septiembre de 1810, el Padre Miguel Hidalgo entregó el Grito de Dolores, una declaración de la independencia del colonialismo español; y una llamada para la abolición de la esclavitud africana, para un fin al sistema de la casta que explota a los indios, y para la reforma social y económica. Hoy, mexicanos y centroamericanos están forzados a salir fuera de sus patrias a causa de una larga historia de la intervención militar estadounidense, la explotación del los pagos de deuda del Fondo Monetario Internacional y Banco Mundial, los programas impuestos de la austeridad, los esquemas de la privatización y los acuerdos de "libre cambio": la dominación corporativa de EE.UU. para crear una fuente de obra barata. Los migrantes a los Estados Unidos enfrentan la represión de la migra, la negación de su derecho de organizar y la falta de protecciones legales en su lugar de trabajo: forzándolos a aceptar trabajos de bajos-sueldos.

Unámonos en un nuevo Grito: una llamada para los derechos del trabajador tales como los derechos humanos, la independencia de la pobreza y la completa legalización y "fair trade" sin exploitación.

música por by Diana Gameros, Francisco Herrera, Enrique Ramírez, Elizabeth Esteva and Diego Sardaneta

poesía por Rafael Jesús González y Nancy Esteva

presentaciones de David Frías, Coalición de Salario Digno de San Francisco; Sara Terry Manríquez and Elvia Villescas of Las Hormigas; Karen Oliva, Comité en Solidaridad con el Pueblo de El Salvador; Porfirio Quintano, Hondureños en la Diáspora; Meredith Wilkinson, Red en Solidaridad con Guatemala; Diana Bohn, Centro de Información de Nicaragua para la Acción Comunitaria; David Bacon, Comité organizador de la Campaña Dignidad 

miércoles, 15 de septiembre

6 p.m. – 8 p.m.

Regístrese para este evento, virtual en línea
https://bit.ly/NewGritoforChange

gratis

donaciones para beneficio de la Coalición de Salario Digno de San Francisco, Las Hormigas de Ciudad Juárez, Trabajo Cultural Caminante y Área Bahía Comité en Solidaridad con el Pueblo de El Salvador

Para más información, comuníquese al 415-863-1225 o sflivingwage@riseup.net o visite www.livingwage-sf.org

-

Rosh HaShanah: tashlich

-

 

Tikkun Olam
 

May we learn justice 
without which there is no peace;
may we learn compassion 
without which there is no justice.

---------
------------Tashlich


 
These are the days of awe —
time of inventory----- 
-----and a new beginning
when harvest of what we sowed-----
----- comes in.
(What have we sown 
------of discord and terror?
Where have we fallen short 
------of justice?)

The scales dip and teeter;
there is so much
to discard,
so much to atone.

When our temples stood
we loaded a goat
 -----with our transgressions
 ----------and sent it to the wild.
Now we must search our pockets
for crumbs of our trespasses,
our sins to cast upon the rivers.

The days are upon us
 -----to take stock of our hearts.
 ----------It is time to dust
the images of our household gods, 
-----our teraphim,-
---------------------our lares.



------------© Rafael Jesús González 2021


(Arabesques Review, vol. 3 no . 3, 2007; author’s copyrights) 




 

Que aprendamos justicia 
sin la cual no hay paz;
que aprendamos compasión 
sin la cual no hay justicia.

 ---------------  

-------------Tashlij


 
Estos son los días de temor —
tiempo del inventario
 -----y un nuevo comienzo
cuando la cosecha de lo que sembramos
 -----entra.
(¿Qué hemos sembrado 
------de discordia y terror?
¿Dónde hemos fallado
 -------en la justicia?)

Las balanzas se inclinan y columpian;
hay tanto de que deshacerse,
tanto por lo cual expiar.

Cuando estaban en pie nuestros templos
cargábamos a una cabra
 -----con nuestros pecados 
----------y la echábamos al desierto.
Ahora tenemos que buscar en los bolsillos
las migas de nuestras faltas,
nuestros pecados para echarlos a los ríos.

Están sobre nosotros los días
 -----para hacer inventario del corazón. 
----------Es tiempo de sacudir
las imagines de nuestros dioses domésticos, 
------nuestros térafines,
 ---------------------------nuestros lares.



---------------------------------© Rafael Jesús González 2021

--

Labor Day - Thank you all workers

  --

-

-------------------------------Trabajor(a)

 

El que trabaja con sus manos es obrero,

el que trabaja con sus manos y su cabeza 

es artesano, el que trabaja con sus manos

y su cabeza y su corazón es artista, 

------así dijiste hermano Francisco.

¿Eras artista entonces, hermano,

reconstruyendo San Damián y 

la capilla de Ntra. Sra. Reina de los Ángeles?

No conozco hombre o mujer que trabaje

sólo con las manos sin la cabeza

agobiada que sea o sin el corazón

aunque esté amargo y doliente.

Son la circunstancias injustas que separan

las manos de la cabeza y del corazón. 

Obreros, artesanos, artistas 

somos todos trabajadores — 

nos ganamos el pan y ponemos

el pan, y el vino, en las mesas.

Si pobreza hay no es culpa nuestra;

es generosa la Tierra cuando no cae 

en las manos de los avaros. 

Si bautizo hay de agua y de sangre

también la hay del sudor.

 

--------------------------© Rafael Jesús González 2021

(Fighting Fascism; Jack Hirschman, John Curl, Lisbit Bailey Eds; 

San Francisco 2021; derechos reservados del autor.)

 

 

-----------------------Worker

 

He who works with his hands is a laborer,

He who works with his hands & his head 

is a craftsman, he who works with his hands

& his head and his heart is an artist, 

-----so you said, brother Francis.

Were you then an artist, brother,

rebuilding St. Damian & 

the chapel of Our Lady Queen of the Angels?

I do not know man or woman who works

only with the hands without the head 

weighed down as it be or without heart

though it be bitter & hurting.

It is unjust circumstances that separate

the hands from the head & the heart. 

Laborers, crafts-folk, artists

we are all workers — 

we earn our bread & put

bread, & wine, on the tables.

If poverty there be it is no fault of ours;

the Earth is generous when it does not fall

into the hands of the greedy.

If there is baptism of water & blood

so also there is of sweat.

 

-----------------------------------© Rafael Jesús González 2021

(Fighting Fascism;  Jack Hirschman, John Curl, Lisbit Bailey Eds; 

San Francisco 2021; author's copy rights.)

 

 

 

 

 

  

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