Tuesday, March 31, 2009

César E. Chávez 3/31/1927 - 4/23/1993

-
To celebrate César E. Chávez
(& the movement for farm-workers' rights, justice & peace)
the eulogy written on the occasion of his death.




---------A fines de abril

-------------------------a César E. Chávez


A fines de abril
las viñas ya verdes de brotos,
llegó la muerte al campesino,
al césar de las uvas vestidas de azul,
de las cebollas de fondos blancos,
de las manzanas de vestiduras rojas.

-----Le dijo — ¡Vén, César! —

Y se lo llevó de las uvas envenenadas,
las sandías, los melones llenos de mal,
de las batallas de los surcos,
de las emboscadas de las acequias,
del estandarte guadalupano,
de la bandera roja y negra.

Pero en los surcos
su voz dejó sembrado
su anhelo por justicia —
---que es decir reclamar
--------el pan para el hambre
--------el alivio para el enfermo
--------los libros para el inocente.

Su voz dará fruto
---y habrá regocijo
------en los surcos,
------las acequias,
------las mesas,
------la tierra.



-----------© Rafael Jesús González 2009


(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.)




by Robert Lentz


----------At the End of April

------------------------to César E. Chávez


At the end of April
the vines already green with buds,
death came to the field-worker,
to the caesar of the grapes dressed in blue,
of the onions in white petticoats,
of the apples in red vestments.

-----She said to him, “Come, César!”

And took him from the poisoned grapes,
the watermelons, the melons full of ill,
the battles of the furrows,
the ambushes of the ditches,
the Guadalupe standard,
the red and black flag.

But in the furrows
his voice left planted
his longing for justice —
----which is to say, his demands
-----------for bread for the hungry,
-----------healing for the sick,
-----------books for the innocent.

His voice will bear fruit
-----and there will be rejoicing
----------in the furrows,
----------in the ditches,
----------round the tables
----------in the land.




----------© Rafael Jesús González 2009


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Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Archbishop Óscar A. Romero G. 8/15/1917 - 3/24/1980

--
30 Years Later

After the recent elections in El Salvador which signaled a victory for the Salvadoran people in which President Mauricio Funes, who dedicated his presidency to Archbishop Oscar Romero, was elected, let us remember and honor in our hearts the memory of Archbishop Óscar Arnulfo Romero Galdámes, Archbishop of San Salvador murdered while he said mass in the chapel of a hospital March 24, 1980, El Salvador. He was killed because of his opposition to injustice, to cruelty; he was killed because he loved and tried to protect those he loved. He was killed for being a good shepherd.




------La Consagración Del Cafe

-----------------al monseñor Óscar A. Romero


Un día de dios
en mi patio tomando café
nada es normal —
------ni el alcatraz
------con su pene dorado
------ni el iris
------como lava morada
------que derrama un volcán.
Encuentro en el fondo de la taza
casullas bordadas
de mariposas negras
y guindas manchas —
-----el sol dispara
-----centellas de balas plateadas
-----y de cirios ahogados —
----------hay sangre en su brillar.
Pongo la burda taza en su platillo
con un tierno cuidado
como si fuera cáliz
y digo la letanía:
-------Guatemala
-------Nicaragua
-------El Salvador.
Y un lado del corazón
me sabe blanco y dulce
como la caña
------y el otro,
-----------como el café,
------------------negro y amargo.



----------© Rafael Jesús González 2009


(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.)







------The Consecration Of Coffee

----------------------to Archbishop Óscar A. Romero


One day of god
drinking coffee in my patio
nothing is normal —
------not the calla
------with its penis of gold
------nor the iris
------like purple lava
------a volcano spills.
I find in the depths of the cup
chasubles embroidered
with black moths
& red stains —
-----the sun fires
-----a scintillation of silver bullets
-----& of candles drowned —
-----------there is blood in its shine.
I place the cup on its saucer
with a most tender care
as if it were a chalice
& say the litany:
-------Guatemala
-------Nicaragua
-------El Salvador
& one side of my heart
tastes white & sweet
like cane sugar
-----& the other,
----------like coffee,
---------------bitter & black.




--------© Rafael Jesús González 2009


( Visions-International, no. 44;
author’s copyrights)
-

William Morris (24 March 1834 – 3 October 1896)

-
-

Art Can Kill

to William Morris,
with all due respect
-
-
It is said that art saves lives,
but those greens
in Mr. Morris’ wall-papers
-----were to die for.
Only poison from papa’s plant
could give such vivid greens,
& when the people said
the wall-paper made them sick,
-----they may not have been
---------criticizing art.

Arsenic & old lace
in the drawing room are
---especially deadly
in the damp English weather.



-----© Rafael Jesús González 2009





El arte puede matar

a William Morris,
con todo debido respeto


Se dice que el arte salva vidas,
pero esos verdes
en los papeles de empapelar del Sr. Morris
-----eran para morir.
Sólo el veneno de la planta de papá
podría dar verdes tan vivos,
y cuando la gente decía
que el papel les causaba nausea,
-----no estarían
---------criticando el arte.

Arsénico y encaje viejo
en la sala son
---especialmente mortales
en el clima húmedo inglés.




------© Rafael Jesús González 2009





Saturday, March 21, 2009

World Poetry Day

-

----------El ángel encinta

---------------(arte poética)


Tengo un ángel encinta dentro el ojo;
las cosas arrastran sus sombras en silencio;
los espejos esparcen sus mentiras de luz
----sobre los suelos
y el sol finge colores en el cielo.

La tinta se cuaja en el tintero,
la pluma se erige detenidamente
y da combate a la amenaza del ensueño —
una palabra sin sentido
-----se suspende en el aire
temblando levemente sin tino y sin dueño.

---------(En el mar los caracoles
----------guardan sus secretos,)




------------------© Rafael Jesús González 2009


(Grito del sol, año 2 libro 1; enero-marzo 1977;
El hacedor de juegos/The Maker of Games, Rafael Jesús González,
Casa Editorial San Francisco 1977-78; © derechos reservados del autor.)





--------The Pregnant Angel

---------------(Ars poetica)


I have a pregnant angel in the eye;
things drag their shadows in silence;
the mirrors scatter their lies of light
------upon the floors,
& the sun feigns colors in the sky.

The ink curdles in the bottle;
the pen rises cautiously
& battles the threat of enchantment —
a word without meaning
------hangs in the air
trembling lightly
without master or sense.

------(In the sea the snails
-------keep their secrets.)



----------© Rafael Jesús González 2009


(The Bitter Oleander, Vol. 14 no. 2, Oct. 2008;
author’s copyrights)

-

Friday, March 20, 2009

Spring Equinox & Aries

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Spring Equinox & Aries

-

--------------------Aries

Al morueco de los comienzos
lo impulsa la estrella roja
que relumbra en sus ojos de diamante
y se refleja en sus cuernos de heliotropo,
sus pesuñas de hierro.
-----Guarda el fuego cardinal del anhelo
-----y sobre su cabeza
--------------giran el día y la noche
---------------------la noche y el día
--------------en el baile simétrico
---------------------del tiempo.



-----------------© Rafael Jesús González 2009




---------------
Aries

The ram of beginnings
is driven by the red star
which shines in its diamond eyes,
reflects in its bloodstone horns,
its iron hoofs.
----It guards the cardinal fire
----of ambition
----& above its head
-------turn day & night
-------night & day
----in the symmetrical dance
------------of time.


----------© Rafael Jesús González 2009
-



Thursday, March 19, 2009

U. S. invasion of Iraq six years later

-
Written six years ago on the eve
of the United States’ invasion of Iraq,
night of a full moon.



Fernando Botero


Luna perseguida por perros


La luna plena entra
por mi ventana;
sus enaguas blancas
llenan el cuarto.

Me persiguen los perros —
dice — Mira,
mira como me han
desgarrado las faldas;
hay una bola
de perros enloquecidos
sueltos en el mundo.

Temo que mañana
mis enaguas se tiñan
rojas de sangre.

Hay perros rabiosos
sueltos en el mundo.



------© Rafael Jesús González 2008


----------------------(RUNES, no. 4, 2004;
----------------------CB Follet y Susan Terris;
----------------------derechos reservados del autor)



Fernando Botero


---
Moon Chased by Dogs


The full moon comes
through my window;
her white skirts
fill the room.

I am chased by the dogs,
she says. Look,
look how they have
shredded my skirts;
there is a pack
of mad dogs
let loose in the world.

I am afraid that tomorrow
my skirts will be stained
red with blood.

There are mad dogs
let loose in the world.



------© Rafael Jesús González 2008


-----------------------(RUNES, issue 4, 2004;
-----------------------CB Follet & Susan Terris, eds.;
-----------------------author’s copyrights)


Fernando Botero
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Tuesday, March 17, 2009

St. Patrick's Day

-

----Fiesta de San Patricio


San Patricio echó las culebras
de Irlanda y Santa Brígida
era la diosa de las norias;
hadas residen allí y el trébol
explica la Trinidad;
la isla es siempre verde
y su don del habla
proviene de una piedra.




------© Rafael Jesús González 2009






------St. Patrick’s Day


St. Patrick drove the snakes
from Ireland & St. Brigid
was the goddess of the wells;
faeries dwell there & the clover
explains the Trinity;
the isle is always green
& its gift for gab
comes from a stone.




-- ----© Rafael Jesús González 2009
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