Dear Reader:
Here are the poems that I found in the box. While Patria's journal walked me through her inner struggle and the steps she took to work through her conflicts, these poems really showed me the emotional struggle the family members went through. They reflected on the past and present, and predicted how these events would effect their futures. They expressed their fears, hopes, loves, and losses with such emotional charge, I couldn't help but ride the emotional roller coaster with them. Enjoy!
Here are the poems that I found in the box. While Patria's journal walked me through her inner struggle and the steps she took to work through her conflicts, these poems really showed me the emotional struggle the family members went through. They reflected on the past and present, and predicted how these events would effect their futures. They expressed their fears, hopes, loves, and losses with such emotional charge, I couldn't help but ride the emotional roller coaster with them. Enjoy!
I am from patent leather shoes, from tamales and warm nights.
I am from the brown, damp earth, full of hope and promise of new life.
I am from the wheat fields, the tomato plants, and the Anacahuita tree.
I am from volleyball games at Tio’s house and amber eyes that gleam, from Mama, Papa, abuelita and abuelo.
I am from the wide hips and love of chocolate.
From “be a lady” and “Trujillo is our savior”.
I'm from The Dominican, chili picante and fresh tortillas
From the sister who performed for Trujillo, the sister who married so young, and the sister with the beautiful long hair.
I am from the shelf by papa’s chair, the mementos and memories in mama’s closet, and the picture frames on the walls.
- Bélgica Adela "Dedé" Mirabal
1
I am from the brown, damp earth, full of hope and promise of new life.
I am from the wheat fields, the tomato plants, and the Anacahuita tree.
I am from volleyball games at Tio’s house and amber eyes that gleam, from Mama, Papa, abuelita and abuelo.
I am from the wide hips and love of chocolate.
From “be a lady” and “Trujillo is our savior”.
I'm from The Dominican, chili picante and fresh tortillas
From the sister who performed for Trujillo, the sister who married so young, and the sister with the beautiful long hair.
I am from the shelf by papa’s chair, the mementos and memories in mama’s closet, and the picture frames on the walls.
- Bélgica Adela "Dedé" Mirabal
1
Cuba was freed today,
Batista has gone away,
The women and men,
Can be happy again,
Castro has saved the day.
Trujillo is alive today,
Our chance for freedom is far away,
The women and men,
Fear for their family and friends,
Until Trujillo has seen his last day.
- Maria Teresa Guzmán Mirabal
1, 4
Batista has gone away,
The women and men,
Can be happy again,
Castro has saved the day.
Trujillo is alive today,
Our chance for freedom is far away,
The women and men,
Fear for their family and friends,
Until Trujillo has seen his last day.
- Maria Teresa Guzmán Mirabal
1, 4
The girls have my eyes.
They have my beautiful brown eyes,
Flecked with gold,
That in the sunlight turn to liquid amber.
My eyes that crinkle when I smile,
shine like ice when I cry,
induce fear when I’m angry,
and give me away when I’m sad.
My eyes that are rimmed with long, dark lashes,
That are the envy are the envy of girls at school,
And a magnet for attention from boys.
They have my eyes,
And when I look into my eyes,
I know that mama was right.
-Minerva Mirabal
1
They have my beautiful brown eyes,
Flecked with gold,
That in the sunlight turn to liquid amber.
My eyes that crinkle when I smile,
shine like ice when I cry,
induce fear when I’m angry,
and give me away when I’m sad.
My eyes that are rimmed with long, dark lashes,
That are the envy are the envy of girls at school,
And a magnet for attention from boys.
They have my eyes,
And when I look into my eyes,
I know that mama was right.
-Minerva Mirabal
1
Under the Anacahuita Tree,
My babies learned to walk.
To run
To play
To laugh.
Under the Anacahuita tree,
My girls learned to love.
To hate
To flirt
To cry.
Under the Anacahuita Tree,
My young women learned to fight.
To dream,
To hope,
To aspire.
Under the Anacahuita Tree,
They learned.
They learned that the world is unjust,
That it is unfair,
That it is hard
And that it need to change.
Under the Anacahuita Tree,
My babies fostered a revolution.
They would free the people,
They would make it fair,
They would overthrow the oppressors.
Under the Anacahuita tree,
I hugged them goodbye,
Hoping they would return to me,
But knowing deep in my heart that it was the last time I would see them under the tree.
-Mecedes Mirabal
1
My babies learned to walk.
To run
To play
To laugh.
Under the Anacahuita tree,
My girls learned to love.
To hate
To flirt
To cry.
Under the Anacahuita Tree,
My young women learned to fight.
To dream,
To hope,
To aspire.
Under the Anacahuita Tree,
They learned.
They learned that the world is unjust,
That it is unfair,
That it is hard
And that it need to change.
Under the Anacahuita Tree,
My babies fostered a revolution.
They would free the people,
They would make it fair,
They would overthrow the oppressors.
Under the Anacahuita tree,
I hugged them goodbye,
Hoping they would return to me,
But knowing deep in my heart that it was the last time I would see them under the tree.
-Mecedes Mirabal
1