Best Spanish Poems
In nineteen eighteen there was an outbreak of flu
Caused little concern, only affected a few
But it returned with a vengeance later that year
And the world over it caused widespread fear.
First reported in Spain, and around the world spread
When it was over, fifty million people were dead
Hospitals were stretched and they struggled to cope
For both young and old, there wasn't much hope.
It affected the lungs and caused skin to turn blue
Only comfort was given it was all they could do
In effect it caused people to suffocate
And continued to spread at an alarming rate.
People advised to avoid crowds and to wear masks
They struggled to perform even basic daily tasks
Remote areas in the world were affected too
By this airborne killer virus, the great Spanish flu.
Effort's were made to slow down this disease
But slowly and surely it brought the world to its knees
Shops opening times were staggered all over the lands
People strongly advised not to shake hands.
Undertakers were struggling to cope with demands
Families' buried loved ones with their own hands
Healthy men and women and children too
Were all falling victim to the great Spanish flu.
Because of World War One, doctors were few
And those that were available, many fell sick too
Temporary hospital's set up in schools or church hall
With many brave volunteers answering the call.
They closed many schools, services were hit too
With workers struck down by this merciless flu
Late nineteen nineteen the virus reached its peak
Immunity grew stronger but it still struck the weak.
Sadly mankind had suffered and paid a great cost
To the great Spanish flu with millions of lives lost
The pandemic was now over, survivors started to thrive
But were mournful of the millions who did not survive.
Written 4th April 2018.
( Dedicated to the fifty million people who died
in the Spanish flu pandemic in the years 1918 to 1919. )
Taco shells are made of yellow corn meal.
They are tasty and crunchy, and usually a good deal.
You can stuff them with ground beef, chicken, or even fish.
Fill them up with plenty of whatever you wish.
Tacos are something folks north of the Rio Grande adore.
However, they break too easily and spill their contents on the floor.
Rumbling in my mind
The song of Arleen Hurtado
Trying to get into a Spanish mood
As I gaze at the flamingo dancer,
Dressed in black flaming wide dress.
Hear her castanets, clicking in rhythm
To the background of classical guitars
And the occasional shouts of Ole`.
Yes I can see her, steel soled shoes
Tapping on sturdy wood. She twirls,
Her dress inflated in a sensual dance,
Until she enters in a tocatta festiva.
Silently she taps as she lifts her dress,
Slowly revealing her beautiful legs,
And down again to recommence her twirl.
The audience go mad in applause.
She merely bows and retires to her room.
I’m there waiting for her.
VELA (CANDLE)First Spanish version, scroll down for English)
Yo ser‚ para ti.
Toda la vida que me queda la vivir‚ para ti
y cuando el tiempo haya terminado,
morir‚ por ti.
Dir‚ tu nombre
en cada vela que encienda, respirar‚ tu nombre.
Te susurrar‚,
cada oraci¢n que diga ser siempre parte de ti.
Por toda la eternidad,
y as¡ ha sido y ser siempre,
y cuando deje este mundo,
aquello vendr conmigo
en la luz de una vela.
Todo el mundo sigue girando, haciendo el d¡a y la noche,
y de la oscuridad a la luz,
ser s siempre parte de cada oraci¢n que yo diga.
Yo ser‚ para ti.
Como una fresca quebrada de la monta¤a que se desborda por ti
como una c lida brisa de verano
entre los rboles para ti.
En el brillo de una vela,
todo lo que he sido o llegue a ser
por toda la eternidad,
tu ser s parte de todo lo que yo haga siempre.
Yo ser‚ para ti.
Traducci¢n: Emilio J. Saavedra M. CANDLE
I will be for you.
All my life that is left, I will live for you,
and when time has run out,
I will die for you.
I will speak your name
in each candle that I light, I will breath your name.
I will whisper you,
every prayer I ever say will be part of you.
For eternity,
and forever it has been, and will always be,
and when I leave this world,
it will go with me.
In a candle light
all the world keeps on turning, making day and night,
and from dark to light,
you'll be part of every prayer that ever comes from me.
I will be for you.
Like a cool mountain spring that overflows for you
like a warm summer breeze
through the trees for you.
In a candle glow,
everything I've ever been or will ever be
for eternity,
you'll be part of everything I ever do.
I will be for you.
© Ron Wilson aka Vee Bdosa the doylestown poet
A CASTLE OF TEMPTATION
Proudly standing amidst three lochs, verdant hills
a Castle enciente breathing beauty but sadly chants
passed feuds sparking battles having harried their foe
and it's demise caused by Frigates cannonball screams.
Colonel MacRae-Gilstrap rebuilds now redeemed:
stoned arch bridge supersede the sea highway flow,
circular stairs and ceilings with coat of arms grants
changes made but its history today remains still
Tourists not deterred by ghost tales scary extreme
But await they exercise for imaginations to show
the setting, a romantic reincarnation that enchants
attracted lovers to celebrate their matrimonial thrill
Eilean Donan Castle in its stunning reachable location
pose the Western Highlands of Scotland a temptation.
Written by: Olive Eloisa Guillermo and James Andrew Fraser
8:46 pm; August 18, 2015
One. Latino boys like Buffalo Wild Wings. It isn't clear why, but it's definitely emerging as a pattern.
Two. Latino boys are persistent. When he asks to kiss you for the first time, say no. Why? Because you've known him for a matter of weeks and he is not your boyfriend yet. Don't worry... he will continue to ask every week until you say yes.
Three. Latino boys are really good kissers.
Four. Latino boys love their family. His cousins are best friends, so you probably already know several of them. If any of his cousins also like you, you might think this is problematic. Your boyfriend will tell you that it's normal, and it's just because they're jealous, and not to worry about it. You will probably worry about it anyway. Sometimes it's better to let things go.
Five. Latino boys are romantic. He will tell you how he loves you in two languages and struggle to find an apt metaphor which he can pronounce in the English language. Since his English isn't perfect, he uses his hands to compensate when he speaks, uses a tilt of his head, a shift in his voice; he says most with his eyes, when he isn't speaking at all.
Six. Notice how he lights up when he smiles at you, like the sunrise... remember that the word for smile in Spanish is sonrisa.
Seven. When he offers to teach you the meringue, say yes. When you trip over each other's feet, laugh. When his face moves close to yours... kiss him.
Eight. When your racist father starts talking about socioeconomic classes, remind him that unlike your brother's American friends, your friends are sober. (Well, more sober. Do not bring up tequila. They're not potheads, at least.) Besides, your Spanish teacher is thrilled with your miraculous improvement in spoken Spanish.
Nine. When you go bowling with him and his cousins and he whispers in your ear that people are staring at us, tell him it's just because they're jealous that I have a boyfriend that will dance with me in public.
Ten. "Te amo" is a phrase that sounds prettiest when whispered.
Look how they fall like angels to the earth!
But no soft landing down amongst those rocks.
Those devils on the bridge with gleeful mirth
Terrorised the townsfolk as wolves do flocks
Of sheep at lambing time. For all their worth,
They searched shuttered houses and smashed the locks
Of any door, they could not open wide,
Dragged out the frightened men hiding inside
Battered them senseless to the dusty ground
In gutters, awash with their comrades’ blood
Each in their own vomit and bile half-drowned.
They lay gasping like fish stranded on mud.
The narrow streets echoing with the sound
Of their screaming and each rifle-butt’s thud.
My God, who are these beasts in human form
Whose hearts the desert sun could never warm?
They are Francisco Franco’s native troops,
Moroccan Regulares, so I’m told.
Free to rape and kill, they are the first groups
Into attack. Completely uncontrolled,
Each Regulare picks his prey and swoops
Raping, maiming, and killing young or old.
Just the threat of unleashing these fierce hawks
Compels Comrade Republicans to talks.
Senses overwhelmed, history revealed,
I step into Plaza Mayor.
Antique hues of pinks and grays stun.
Madrid welcomes me.
Late sun casts golden shadows.
Camaraderie envelops.
I peel my brain for words.
Spanish brass serenades,
a musical aperitif.
Thoughts turn to supper,
as I walk and walk.
I see it, “Menu del Dia” in amber and red.
Savory breeze guides me.
It reads, "Tapas, Chorizo y Jamon",
I can’t resist
Vino Tinto completes me
as I wonder the day.
9/28/17
Everyone said, “Always order the Menu del Dia”
With that and little else, I headed for Spain
I noticed her limp immediately
when she sat next to me on the bench
in the park outside of the Prado.
I inquired about her deep brown eyes
behind her octagonal glasses
that looked sad and defeated.
“I was robbed here yesterday,
during siesta,” she said.
“Two men with knives
jumped out from the bushes.”
She was Finnish and her trip to Spain
had to be cut short
because of the incident.
For a moment, I wondered,
but that didn’t stop me from asking
her if I could buy her a cup of coffee.
Minna looked tall and slender
in black jeans and matching leather boots
and her hair billowed while she hobbled
as we walked to a nearby café.
We chatted about our countries
over coffee and chocolate;
I told her about Brooklyn and baseball
and she talked of a girl’s life in Helsinki.
When our cups were empty
we drank cold Spanish lagers
under the café’s awning
and we laughed and connected
and Minna seemed to forget about
the previous day’s terrible afternoon
with each cool sip.
I trusted her true and dusky eyes
and asked her if I could lend her some cash.
“You can mail me a check
when you get home,” I said,
but Minna shook her head.
“At least take some pesatas to get
you through the day,” I added.
I reached for my wallet,
but she touched my knee.
She smiled faintly and brushed her hair
out of her face.
“There is something you can do,” she said.
“I don’t want to leave Madrid
with a bad taste in my mouth.
Can you walk with me
past where I was robbed yesterday?”
My guard went up again and I thought,
for a shameful moment,
that this was part of her plan.
I reluctantly agreed to help Minna
exorcise the thievish bad vibes
and we walked back to the spot of the offense.
She held my hand and I half-expected
a knife-wielding duo
to spring from the shrubbery,
but there was nothing except
for the sleepy midday Spanish sun
poking itself through the canopy of trees.
“Do you feel better?” I asked
as we returned to the bench
in front of the Prado.
She didn’t say anything,
but held my hand tighter.
God answers
a Spaniard, a Moor
men who seek Him in prayers
the Bible makes it clear, in many layers
he father of the original bearer
O friar, O my brother
the son of Anai
God answers
its Basque origins,
it was a medieval Basque
Catalunya with Arabic elements
A veces, quisiera gritar,
Quisiera correr,
Quisiera reir,
Quisiera llorar,
Quisiera morir,
Quisiera iluminación,
Quisiera vivir,
Quisiera escapar,
Quisiera revivir...
A veces, pienso en ustedes,
Pienso en espacio,
Pienso nublado,
Pienso oscurecido,
Pienso esclarecido,
Pienso en transparencia,
Pienso en huesos,
Pienso en naturaleza,
Pienso en actuar,
Pienso en todo...
Desearía volver a amar como antes,
Desearía saber más allá,
Desearía expresar más de lo normal,
Desearía unas manos agarrar,
Desearía en hombros impregnar,
Desearía contigo llorar,
Desearía contigo caminar,
Desearía tus abrazos recibir,
Desearía mi corazón de plata y titanio arreglar,
Desearía mi mente repasar...
Desearía que no me traicionaran,
Desearía con besos y amistad despertar,
Desearía en un paraíso soñar,
Desearía a todos concientizar,
Desearía a todos impresionar,
Desearía construir nuevos horizontes,
Desearía adversidades borrar,
Desearía romper leyes,
Desearía ser libre,
Desearía a todos ayudar,
Aunque me cueste la vida...
Pienso en querer el deseo infinito,
Quiero un amor eterno,
Deseo uno amistad inquebrantable,
Para no morir más...
Para Mi Familia Y Amistades
Si ustedes estan aqui sentados, escuchando estas Palabras
es porque yo ya no soy de este mundo. Yo todavia estoy aqui
pero ustedes no me pueden ver. A ustedes mis hijos - quiero
decirles que siempre los ame mucho con todo mi corazon.
Yo nunca tuve riquesas en este mundo. Mi mas grande Tesoro
fue haber los tenido a ustedes, fueron el Tesoro que Dios me
mando. Yo los cuide lo major que pude. Dejen que Dios conforte
sus almas y limpie sus lagrimas. Despuez sigan sus vidas y el
tiempo curara su dolor.
Ahora yo tengo que emprender una jornada, pero tengo que
hacerla sola/solo. Por favor no lloren por mi. No he muerto, estoy
empezando una vida nueva. Traten de vivir una vida recta y buena.
Mantenganse siempre cerca de Jesus y asi estaran cerca de Dios.
Pronto nos volveremos a ver. Cuando ustedes suban las escaleras
de oro - sere yo quien los encuentre alli.
A mi familia y amistades les quiero decir - gracias por los anos y
tiempos que pasamos juntos. Por los tiempos que reimos y los tiempos
que lloramos. Como ustedes saben - todo llega a su fin. Ahora yo les
dejo aqui mi ultimo adios. Desde Arriba yo le pedire a Jesus nuestro Senor
que los bendiga a todos y cada uno de ustede. Adios...
08/19/2014
By Lucilla M. Carrillo
Tus pequeños pies castaños
Gateando, ágiles
Pegados en las rocas
Como las patitas de una salamandra
No se aquietan
Hasta que encuentran el alto
E reposan curvándose sobre la piedra
Mientras desde allí me apuntas
Cosas que ilustran los relatos
De la vida de tu hogar
Satisfecho de que lo que me dices
Es prontamente demostrado
Sin demora quedan abajo
Impacientes
Y caminan a mí lado
Esos pies cobrizos
Cavando la arena
Formando huellas poco profundas
Saltando ligeros
Como sólo pueden
Los pies de un niño
Por entre las piedras
“Baryshnikov” dices de mofa
Reimos
Y tus pies ya se van adelante
Como señores de tu voluntad
Hasta que te vayas entero de mi
Miro las marcas dejadas
Tan poco han andado a mi lado
Estos chicos pies desnudos
Pero que gran distancia
Percorrieron en mi corazón.
Camino en sociedad de ignorancia,
Donde palacios son corruptos por efectos de arrogancia;
Pasan por nuestros lados,
Echando el ojo, tratando de disimular;
Donde la conciencia es absentista,
Donde todos dicen ser abstencionistas,
Pero, todos son ambiciosos, consumidos y absorbidos por hipocresía...
Camino en sociedad abolicionista,
Donde abolicionan toda aventura,
Donde la única aventura es abolir la sociedad,
Siendo una sociedad abstraída y egoísta,
Poniendo todo lindo, pero con abusividad escondida,
Siendo una sociedad de imbéciles accionistas,
Mostrando intransigencia acérrima y decisiva,
Pero, todos son perezosos basados en negligencia anarquista...
Camino en sociedad de advertencia,
Donde los reprimidos quedan agrisados,
Donde los rechazados y solitarios quieren valentía,
Donde la paz social va desvaneciendo,
Donde la minoría quiere acracia y amnistía de la sociedad,
Para derrocar la corona trastornada y distorcionada...
Camino en sociedad amorfa,
Donde nos han forzado ansias a través de propaganda alarmista,
Donde existen muchos agiotistas fraudulentos,
Donde propias convicciones son raramente afianzadas y aseguradas,
Donde la autoridad permanece en mordacidad y acrimonia,
Donde los realistas son fastidiados y ajusticiados,
Donde las miradas autoritarias son falsamente alegatorias,
Donde muchos permanecen injustamente en incertidumbre ambigua...
Solo a través de sabios ojos,
Es que existen verdaderas experiencias;
Con mirada fiera,
Con mirada de ira,
Con mirada desamparada,
Con mirada sigilosa,
Con mirada misteriosa;
Con toda mirada real existe vida lúcida y estragos mortíferos...
Camino en sociedad de odio,
Donde toda mirada se vuelve rencorosa,
Camino en sociedad de miradas,
Donde las paredes escuchan y hablan,
Donde las divisiones son provocadas,
Apuñalando nuestras espaldas;
Piensan que es un simple juego de carcajadas,
Pero, todos son hipócritas a través de siniestras miradas,
Que me tratan de dejar en agrafia,
Con el juego de las miradas...
El conjunto plena...
trio tumbao
aguas buenas
sueños arbolitos
sueños de pino
siempre unidos
la fuerza de mi padre
el sabor gitano
de mi madre
gritos del cacique
tierra de mi gente
Sangre de poeta
Luz de mi sol
Siempre en mi corazón
Borinquen soy
hoy y en las
mañanas..