Borderless in El Paso, Texas
Juan Felipe Herrera shares a poem about the events in El Paso, Texas on July 23, 2019.
By Juan Felipe HerreraAugust 4, 2019
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Borderless in El Paso, Texas
— for all the victims, the injured, their families, our people.
in the North
from the broken shoes pointing toward
each other w/o a body
a lost mother the riddled father a tiny child
scattered on the superstore floor
and the empty parking lot
we
will
find strength
in the South
we will cradle the last last degree of courage
from the feverish cell boy gone in chicken wire detention
freezer warehouse La Hielera cage
no mamá no papá
Yes —
separatedin the South — Yesmassacredin the North
borderless in El Paso
wewillcontinue
— Juan Felipe Herrera, 8-4-19
Sin fronteras en El Paso, Texas
— para todas las víctimas, los heridos, sus familias, nuestra gente.
en el Norte
desde los zapatos rotos que apuntan
de uno a otro sin un cuerpo
una madre perdida el padre acribillado un pequeñín
esparcidos por el piso de la supertienda
y el estacionamiento vacío
nosotros
reuniremos
fuerza
en el Sur
acurrucaremos el último grado de valor
del afiebrado niño muerto encerrado en una celda
cercada de alambre de pollo
almacén congelador jaula La Hielera
sin mamá sin papá
Sí —
separadosen el Sur — Símasacradosen el Norte
sin fronteras en El Paso
nosotrosseguiremosadelante
— Juan Felipe Herrera, 8-4-19
Traducción de Lauro Flores, Seattle,WA
¤
We Won’t Forget Dayton, Ohio
— for those killed, injured, for their families, for all.
We won’t forget Dayton, Ohio
We won’t forget the 9 killed and the wounded
We won’t forget the 100 round magazine
We won’t forget the night trembling streets
Of sudden disappearance
Now we kneel now we take account
Now we take measure — this life our life
How tiny how ruthless how infinite
— Juan Felipe Herrera, 8-5-19
No olvidaremos a Dayton, Ohio
— para los asesinados, para los heridos, para sus familias, para todos.
No olvidaremos a Dayton, Ohio
No olvidaremos a los 9 asesinados y a los heridos
No olvidaremos el cargador de 100 cartuchos
No olvidaremos las temblorosas calles nocturnas
De desapariciones repentinas
Ahora nos arrodillamos ahora lo tenemos en cuenta
Ahora tomamos medida -- esta vida nuestra vida
Qué pequeña qué implacable qué infinita.
— Juan Felipe Herrera, 8-5-19
Traducción de Lauro Flores, Seattle,WA
LARB Contributor
Born in Fowler, California — learned corridos and rhymes from his mother, Lucha, on the farm working roads and small towns. His father, Felipe, played harmonica telling tales of work in early 1900’s Wyoming. He graduated from UCLA, Stanford and the University of Iowa’s Writer’s Workshop. His awards include the Guggenheim Poetry Fellowship, the National Book Critic’s Circle Award, LA Times Robert Kirsch Lifetime Achievement Award and recently, the International Latino Book Award. He is Emeritus Professor from Fresno State’s Chicano and Latin American Studies program and UC-Riverside’s Department of Creative Writing. In the last decade he has served as a Chancellor of the Board of the Academy of American Poets, California’s Poet Laureate, and the Poet Laureate of the United States. Recent book is Every Day We Get More Illegal.