Cubalachain
By Marta Maria Miranda-Straub
I am from a place where roosters wake you up
and chickens feed you breakfast,
where pigs are slaughtered with grit and grace
and every single part is used for something
I am from a place where we feast on white rice, black beans,
aguacates and mojitos
I am from the vile in my mother’s hatred of wifely duties
from kneeling on pebbles on the bathroom floor,
wishing that I could fly, and I have and sometimes I still do
I am from a place where café accompanies cigars and visitors
where we give voice to punto guajiro
and workship to the sound of la Rumba
I am from the song of celia cruz,
the black one sways without walking sideways,
Azucar, Azucar prieta cuanto me gustas y me alegra,
the poetry of Marti,
I am an honest man from where the palm trees grow,
Before I die I want to sing the songs of soul: Yo soy un hombre sincero de donde crece la palma
Y antes the morirme quero hechar mis versos del alma
Guantanamera, Guajira Guantanamera.
I am from water gazing, cleansings, bembes and living altars,
a place where we throw shells the same as dominos
where the African tongues are fueled by rum and conga drums,
I am from a place where women traded veils for machine guns
a place where mango trees swing orquídea on their hips
I am from the mountains and I am from the sea,
warrior like Chango, Fearless like Ibatala,
dressed in white and blue, and blessed by Yemaya, Ochun, Obatala,
Ellegua, Legba, Oya, y Chango,
Que viva chango, que viva chango, que viva chango senores
I am from a place where worn mountains touch the heavens and where hollers cradle tabacci, surgum and wild orchids. “I was born on this mountain, since I was my mother’s daughter and you ain’t going to take my dreams away, without me fighting, no you ain’t going to take my dreams away.”
I am from a place where “studying on it” has nothing to do with reading, where cayotes serenade us while black barns play the fiddle.
I am from a place where “bless your little heart” accompanies criticism, where we share the bounty of our gardens and the copperheads on our wood piles.
I am from Appalachia all day long
but I am from Cuba at night.
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Cubana y Guajira
Translation of Cubalachian Poem
By Marta Miranda-Straub
Yo SOY,
Yo soy de un lugar, donde los gallos te despiertan y despues te preparan el desayuno
Yo soy de un lugar donde el puerco es sagrado
Yo soy de un lugar culminados de despojos, y bembes
Yo soy de un lugar endonde los caracoles se tiran igual que el domino
Yo soyde un lugar donde la lengua Africana se habla con el fuego del ron y con el ritmo de las congas
Yo soy de un lugar donde le damos voz al punto guajiro, guantanamera , guajira guantanamera
Yo soy del canto de Celia Cruz, y las poesias de Jose Marti
Yo vengo de un lugar donde la azucar prieta es majica y le da cuerpo al flan y al dulce leche
Yo vengo de un lugar donde la fiestas diaria es servir arroz blanco, frijoles negros, aguacates y mojitos
Yo vengo de un lugar donde el cafe siempre acompana al tabaco y a las visitas
Yo vengo de un lugar donde los arboles cargan a orquiadas en sus sinturas
Yo soy de las montanas, y del oceano
Yo soy guajira de las montanas, “ yo creci en estas montanas y no me puedes quitar mis suenos”
Yo soy hija de yemaya y le tiro bembes a chango
Yo soy the Appalachia por el dia y Cubana por las noches
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