Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Hugo Jamioy Juagibioy

WHERE ARE THEY

Where are they
who only
sowed corn
in our consciousnesses,
drew their voices
in the smoke spirals
calling for an encounter
narrating a joy;

where are they
who sowed the trees of the encounter
and then transformed them
into the boundary stones that separate towns;

where are they
who knitted the symbols of the universe
joining the moon and the sun in the blankets
with which they kept their dreams warm:

where are they
who wrote on the ground
that hunger
would never be our companion;

where are they
who kept in their hands
the outbreaks of their people
dancing for the arrival
of a new sun
and a new moon;

where are my grandparents
who saw through the crystal of their tears
the enormity of the disaster;

where are my grandmothers
who in their placentas
fed new dreams
of green-eyed sons
they never wished for;

where are the lands
that gave birth to you grandfather;

where are the waters
that showed your face, grandmother;

where I am now,
they are there,
everything, everything for me,
is remembrance.

DÓNDE ESTÁN

DÓNDE ESTÁN

Dónde están aquellos
que lo único que hicieron
fue sembrar maíz
en nuestras conciencias,
dibujaron sus voces
en las espirales de humo
llamando al encuentro
contando una alegría;

dónde están aquellos
que sembraron los árboles del encuentro
y luego los convirtieron
en los mojones que separan a los pueblos;

dónde están aquellos
que tejieron los símbolos del universo
uniendo la luna y el sol en las cobijas
con que abrigaron sus sueños;

dónde están aquellos
que escribieron sobre la tierra
que el hambre
jamás sería nuestra compañera;

dónde están aquellos
que guardaron en sus manos
los brotes de su gente,
danzando la llegada
de un nuevo sol,
de una nueva luna;

dónde están mis abuelos
que vieron a través del cristal de sus lágrimas
lo grande que fue el desastre

dónde están mis abuelas
que en su placenta
alimentaron nuevos sueños
de hijos de ojos verdes
que jamás desearon;

dónde están las tierras
que te parieron abuelo;

dónde están las aguas
que enseñaron tu rostro, abuela;

donde estoy ahora,
están ellos,
todo, todo para mí
es recuerdo.

Close

WHERE ARE THEY

Where are they
who only
sowed corn
in our consciousnesses,
drew their voices
in the smoke spirals
calling for an encounter
narrating a joy;

where are they
who sowed the trees of the encounter
and then transformed them
into the boundary stones that separate towns;

where are they
who knitted the symbols of the universe
joining the moon and the sun in the blankets
with which they kept their dreams warm:

where are they
who wrote on the ground
that hunger
would never be our companion;

where are they
who kept in their hands
the outbreaks of their people
dancing for the arrival
of a new sun
and a new moon;

where are my grandparents
who saw through the crystal of their tears
the enormity of the disaster;

where are my grandmothers
who in their placentas
fed new dreams
of green-eyed sons
they never wished for;

where are the lands
that gave birth to you grandfather;

where are the waters
that showed your face, grandmother;

where I am now,
they are there,
everything, everything for me,
is remembrance.

WHERE ARE THEY

Where are they
who only
sowed corn
in our consciousnesses,
drew their voices
in the smoke spirals
calling for an encounter
narrating a joy;

where are they
who sowed the trees of the encounter
and then transformed them
into the boundary stones that separate towns;

where are they
who knitted the symbols of the universe
joining the moon and the sun in the blankets
with which they kept their dreams warm:

where are they
who wrote on the ground
that hunger
would never be our companion;

where are they
who kept in their hands
the outbreaks of their people
dancing for the arrival
of a new sun
and a new moon;

where are my grandparents
who saw through the crystal of their tears
the enormity of the disaster;

where are my grandmothers
who in their placentas
fed new dreams
of green-eyed sons
they never wished for;

where are the lands
that gave birth to you grandfather;

where are the waters
that showed your face, grandmother;

where I am now,
they are there,
everything, everything for me,
is remembrance.

Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère