Menijí
I do not know youBut your bright, loud image crowds
the screen of my mind.
Menijí,
Tayrona people,
I see your plantain crops,
The coca plants
The water trickle
Your lonely homes.
I feel the wind
Cold and lovelorn
sliding from the peaks,
I breathe your essence.
Menijí, I nearly got there…
Someday I will
But you have to know
Oh spirit of the Sierra Nevada,
My heart lives there.
Santa Marta, Sept. 11, 1982
TAYRONAS
Silica…brilliance, ostentation
Carnelian…burgundy love
Agatha…ethnic lark.
My beautiful country…My beautiful country…
Mica crystals on the beach
Sorrowful gold of my lineage
Stolen gold…profound heartache
Chrysoprase, chalcedony, quartz…
Come forth sharp rocks from the earth!
MAMUKRANGA MOKANA
Or Mokaná Ancestral
Couples
The Star –God and King - arises
Over the hills and prairies,
Lands of Kamaschi, Konzepzion,
Ziape, Kornapakua, Zipakua,
On the highest hill…gazing faraway
to the portentous Karib sea,
Holding hands:
Eutari, the Tribal Chief and
Guazariba, his wife
The soft breeze coming from the sea,
Envelops them…
The breeze also combs
the Makanas palms
Glorious extinct plant ivory
Heroic in heroic hands,
In very unequal Guazábaras
Before the implacable and bloody
Hispanic Alan dogs
And the deadly biting steel
of the wrathful conqueror”.
II
Where are Ananyko and
Ynesika, his wife?
Delving into the will of the Gods
In the “Devil’s hut”
Where, Makanari and Dauruzo?
Gathering seashells at the shore.
Happily walking to the well
Holding giant Bangaña gourds
In their hands,
Kasabiare and Jaruba
Bring the precious and vital crystalline
liquid to the village.
III
With the thousand year old clay of Mother Earth
And kneading the noble ground
Linked in a pleasant dialogue…Are
Aritu and his mate Diaguadiz,
From their skilled hands flow
Beautiful jars,
Typical figures.
Who refines the vessels
Of gourd and calabash,
That will contain the intoxicating
Mead and refreshing maize liquor?
Lo! There they are, dour and engrossed
Kazamari and Bomori.
The frolicking children run
Towards the coastal Oca lagoon
Where their parents,
Akamo and bright Yadibibi
fish mullet and bonefish
gather blue crabs and conches,
the sea is calm
after the storm.
In one of the huts
Around Kamaschi
Old Unygua
And his beloved Burudozi
Finish a great hammock
And a very useful mochila;
On the bonfire at the center,
Some game is cooking,
A rabbit and a lowland paca.
IV
Ah!...the orchard is ready
Where they will sow maize
Among them, Burumari’s family
tells helpful Guanarijaba,
Where the seed is
That after being buried
Will sprout like her children
With dazzling vitality
Sturdy ears of corn with golden manes
And voluptuous grains.
They share the planting journey
With Ziribiajua and Burutabi
Getting ready to uproot yuccas
To make Kasabe for all
Using yarn for tortillas
And the juice after squeezing it
In a delectable drink.
V
Deft like no other, Captain
Darero
trains the glittering macaw
“Mute Dog” broodily watches them
As “Royal Parrot” and the chachalaca
Make a huge commotion
gentle Manazu sweetly calms
them,
Darero’s mate
Whom, together with Captain Jorigua
And Majay, his lady
Deserve respect from the people,
The glorious Mokaná tribe
With their fantastic feather headdresses
dyed Semi naked bodies,
And gold pendants
Waited for a new dawn…
Of hope renewed sun
Even after being told through visions:
By their Goddess Buzirako
Of the bitter times tainted
With blood and pain
When they would vanish as a culture
In a new sea of alien and morbid things.
Barranquilla, October 12, 2006.
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