Dr. José de Diego was a journalist, poet, and and advocate for Puerto Rican independence. Today he is known more for his advocacy of independence for Puerto Rico from Spain and the United States than for his poetry.
Translation by Roberto Santiago BORICUAS: Influential Puerto Rican Writings -- An Anthology If suffering comes unabated, if weariness weighs down your spirit, do as the once barren tree: flourish. And like the planted seed: rise. Resurge, breathe, shout, walk, fight, Vibrate, glide, thunder, shine forth... Do as the river rich with new rainwater: grow. Or like the sea approaching a rocky shore: strike. Know how to face the angry thrust of storms, not braying, like a frightened lamb, but roaring, like a defiant beast. Rise! Revolt! Resist! Do as the bull in the face of adversity: charge with confident power.
El Dr. José de Diego era periodista, poeta, y luchador de la independencia puertorriqueña. Hoy lo conocen más por defender la independencia de Puerto Rico de España y de los Estados Unidos que por su poesía. ¡Ah desgraciado, si el dolor te abate, si el cansancio tus miembros entumece! Haz como el árbol seco: reverdece y como el germen enterrado: late. Resurge, alienta, grita, anda, combate, vibra, ondula, retruena, resplandece... Haz como el río con la lluvia: ¡crece! Y como el mar contra la roca: ¡bate! De la tormenta al iracundo empuje, no has de balar, como el cordero triste, sino rugir, como la fiera ruge. ¡Levántate!, ¡revuélvete!, ¡resiste! Haz como el toro acorralado: ¡muge! O como el toro que no muge: ¡embiste!
Es con una inmensa
tristeza que hoy le dedico estas palabras, pues su falta de acción ha puesto en
peligro la subsistencia
de mi bella raza. Seguro es mucho más fácil ignorar el problema con manos
cruzadas, pero entienda que su inmensa ineptitud ha sido su causa.
No es posible que
continúe la situación, pues ella solo aseguraría que el pueblo siga viviendo
bajo tanto terror. El terrorismo, querido gobierno, no es tan solo poner bombas
en un avión. El terrorismo, al igual, es el enorme miedo que siente un padre
cuando se entera que en la vía por donde viaja su hijo a hierro alguien
murió.
Por esto me endiabla, me
enoja y me enfada... que se haga el tonto y ignore lo que actualmente nos pasa.
Su bola de legisladores corruptos, que en vez de legislar para acabar con el
crimen, son una plaga. La desgracia que viven nuestros jóvenes al tener que
pagar una cuota, para que usted pueda pagarle a sus panas. Un departamento de
justicia tan inútil que ni con una manga a mano, un fuego apaga. Y mientras
tanto mi gente, tan linda, se pregunta ¿Qué carajo nos pasa?
Today a new gossip queen is born. We won't know her name just yet, but believe, the puppeteer we once knew as La Comay will strike back. And when she does, people will watch. Because it doesn't matter how much people complain about the blatant lack of respect 'she' has demonstrated towards the victims of violent crime in Puerto Rico and their families, people love to watch a good train wreck.
Que en esta noche, la vispera de Dia De Los Reyes, la paz albergue en sus hogares, la felicidad sus lindas caras, y el amor sus corazones. Felices Fiestas! ♥
A lot of people don’t realize that I’m Latina, which is fine. One thing about being Latina is that there isn’t one look that comes with the territory. I don’t expect people to know my cultural background just by glancing at me. I do, however, expect that when I tell people my family is from Puerto Rico, that I will be believed and not accused of trying to be something that I’m not. It usually goes something like this: a person having a conversation with me discovers one way or another that I’m Puerto Rican and fluent in Spanish. That person then expresses their shock over these realizations for any number of reasons—common responses are, “You don’t look Latina” and “I thought you were black!” I never said I wasn’t black. And since when does being black and being Latina have to be mutually exclusive?
In my experience, people tend to have an uninformed and rather narrow view of what it means to be Puerto Rican. For me, not looking like some people’s idea of a typical Latina has been challenging and often painful. I constantly find myself trying to justify who I am, and why should I? I’m proud of my heritage and my family. Both of my parents are from Puerto Rico. They raised two kids in Brooklyn and later in New Jersey, where we ate arroz con gandules and pasteles and listened to salsa music. I feel just as at home in Puerto Rico, where I still have tons of family, including aunts, uncles and cousins. Puerto Rico is in my blood. And that has nothing to do with the color of my skin.
I’m not angry with anyone who doesn’t understand the complexities of race and culture. And I’m also not interested in having long, drawn out conversations about how it’s possible for me to look like this and speak Spanish. In fact, sometimes I make it a point not to mention my parents’ birthplace because I don’t always feel like having the inevitable discussion that follows. Instead, I let people look at me and come to their own conclusions. As I start to get my feet wet in Hollywood, I already know that there are certain parts I won’t even be considered for. The character can be Puerto Rican and speak Spanish just like me, but Hollywood defines Latina as Jennifer Lopez and Sofia Vergara. As beautiful as they are,we’re not all one race in Latin America. But I don’t go to auditions so that I can give history lessons to film executives. I’d rather skip the entire process.
I’m raising my son to understand who he is, and it’s my hope that he’ll never let others define him. It reflects poorly on us when we don’t educate ourselves about the rest of the world and what it looks like. I encourage people who are interested to learn more, do research and ask informed questions. If you’re lucky enough to visit various countries in Latin America, you’ll be baffled to see the blackest of the black and the lightest of the light living together. And I dare you to ask one of them to prove their latinidad.
Luis Palés Matos (March 20, 1898-February 23, 1959) was a Puerto Rican poet who used the unique blend of Afro-Caribbean words with Spanish to create what we call Afro-Antillian poetry. In his poems, he spoke openly about the African diaspora and the social issues that were affecting them. His collection of Afro-Antillian poetry made him one of the leaders of the Negrismo movement. Majestad Negra, or Black Majesty, is an example of that movement; The tale about the sensuous African Borincana.
I hope you can appreciate the recited version posted below, as well as the English translation by Paquito D'Rivera. Please note that some of the words used in this Afro-Antillian poem are made up, as they are used to add a drumlike musical sound to the words and others are simply words that are autonomous only to the diaspora in the region at the time.
