Iborder:i am withinyour time,my hands touchyour soul, sharp, rebellious, pained.border alivebetween two cultures,inside you,a thousand vines,pulsating sap,warm, red,vital threadscross your center,touch time,i hear you near.your conscienceawakenstoward us,in your summerafternoonsof somnolence, of fear.sea, endless crossroadsof latin america.violent border,new border.border dividedby the constant riverof life,large sometime, other times dry, overlflowing at times.IIborderland self reflectedin the mirror you can not reach,seer of a truthwithout begeinning.exited from your land,wounded penitent,cut with your own mirrors,your drama, your image.mestizo in between tin-tanand captain kangaroo,alienated within the parenthesis,your accent is ripe like corn.in between horse-led wagonsand the nearby border,you wait expectingat the end of the rio grande,to awaken like another villa.imprisoned by this corneryou crown the human beignwith sharp thorns,you sing to the woman and man of this century,to the modern martyrs.eat at the new tableopen to the new century,covered with new earth,new food,rebellious scream of the new human beigncontinue!wake up to the new day,listen to the young rooster,wait to see dawn arrivebraided in colors.IIIi copy my body remaking it,i look for clay, new soil,i am my maker, i make my way,i offer flowers, paper, ixtle and maiz,i create myself creating the cycle of lifewithout forgeting the cycle of death,i celebrate the day of lifeand also celebrate the day of the death.A fluid alive fills mewhen the green river that joins and splits me flows.the gulf is a sea windthat bathes me, renews and resucitates me,the sun paints on my flesh a forgotten color.i wrap myself with the twenty rebozosas an offering to cortez, without beign an offering,i wrap myself in the red and alive rebozosof an eternal malinche.knower of two tonguesi translate translating myself,i know two worlds and in both i see myself.i wrap myself in red transparent gauze,it covers me and lets me see, motionless,the torrent of life.the fabric that embraces covers me,it rocks humanity, everlasting, everlasting,crib and shroud, life and silent death.VIi indentify with the crucified self,with peoples and nations.my word rises and invokes himin the fleeting dream.i pray to the icon of pain,i receive it whollyin the circle of return in man,witness to this modern drama.i pray covered with basilone of my cardinal points,its touch joins my bodyto the prayer quietly uttered,it cuddles itself under my pillow,its aroma envelops melike a fan,its smells heals me.i walk the region of a foreigner,made of water and sun,i caress myself in the afternoonenjoyning feline movements,i navigate in quietude,spying hidden feelings.from my shore,to the other rarified shore,i am a boderlands nomad,weaver of passing dreams,that unfold in history.1999 border text (texto fronterizo)
publications
patricia ruiz-bayón
copyright © patricia ruiz-bayón 2011
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1999 border text - texto fronterizo
