El Junque
Small island we called home
Puerto Rico, me encanta
Friends apologized for
the recent visit of Hugo
“El barstardo” tore down buildings,
but the saddest casualty was nature
El Junque, the rainforest
hidden inland, had paid dearly
Now there was but a bit of heaven:
Lush ferns, lantana underfoot
Palms, missing top feathers
but swayin what Mama Earth gave ’em
“Lo siento, Amelita,” said Fran
(I’m so sorry, Amy)
“El Junque is but a, how do you say,
una sombra de los dias pasados”
(A shadow of days gone by)
Yet, as I watched a paradise-painted parrot
linger on bird of paradise, gilding the lily,
I witnessed nature’s sense of humor
And as the juice of a fresh-picked mango
rolled down my chin, all I thought was,
¡Puerto Rico, mi alma! My soul!
© 2013 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
(Amy de Barlow y Laughlin, la lápiz pequeño y perspicaz)
Hannah at Imaginary Garden With Real Toads wanted poems about the rain forest. How about having one in your back yard… or at least a few miles down the road from you house? That was the luckiest part of living in Puerto Rico – apart from friends I made and abuelitas (grandmothers) who cooed over pictures of mi nena (my little girl), Riley. Gorgeous island, beautiful people. Peace, Amy
At dverse, Hobgoblin asked us to attempt a poem in a foreign language. While I did spend years in Puerto Rico, my Spanish is a mite rusty; that’s why I buy bilingual volumes of Neruda, to strengthen that connection. Let’s see what you think (the English translation follows).
San Juan por la noche
Noches en la playa
de mi Borrinquen querido
Con mi amor, sin abarcas en la arena
y la aroma del mar
Besos dulces, cervezas frias
Manos entrelazarse
Estrellas bialando
por la cadencia de nos corazones
Muchos anos pasados,
yo recuerdo este amor… suave y eterno
TRANSLATION
San Juan at Night
Nights on the beach
of my beloved Puerto Rico
With my love, barefoot in the sand
and the scent of the sea
Sweet kisses, cold beer
Hands intertwined
The stars dancing
to the rhythm of our hearts
After so many years,
I remember that love… tender and eternal
© 2013 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Also at “la casa de poecia,” Poets United!
For the trifecta weekend challenge, to use the word for an animal as a verb, in exactly 33 words. Here are two offerings.
The first is about my mom; the second is an homage to mi viejo San Juan. Peace, Amy
THE ADDICT
Started at 14, in classic fashion, behind the barn. Later, her children badgered her: “Quit smoking, Mom!” It was the wanting to quit that was missing. She Cameled herself to an early grave.
ANGELITA AND CECI
Don’t know much Spanish, but the girls down the hall, they’re roommates, both Puerto Rican, clingy moms back home. Not a day goes by without one yelling to the other, “¡Llama tu madre!”
© 2012 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
