A Los Cielos Mi Alma Vieja

This poem is part of the Claritas fall 2022 issue, Mystery. Read the full print release here.

El saco beis y tosco, encima del

hombro rosa’o e hincha’o, esta cosa

en el condenado saco... qué hermosa...

Ahora, gris, verde, y frío la piel

Me duele el poco peso de mi ángel;

mis pies rotos llevan a mi preciosa

arriba; llora mi ropa viscosa

de sudor y sangre en la tierra cruel

¡Dios! ¡La Cruz me ahoga y me baja!

¡Esta vida, Tus deseos me matan!

¡Siento su cuello se rompe y raja!

¡Mija! llenado de dolor, relaja

ahora; y con tu mamá espera

porque a los cielos mi alma viaja...

English Translation

The remains of my belov’d on my shoulder

Light a feather, yet burdensome a boulder.

My child’s weightlessness makes this heart weary

The viscous clothes on my back: bloody and teary.

Oh Lord my God, why have You forsaken me?

Carnage and slaughter surge my world as the sea!

All my life, the earth never ceased to rumble

I feel her delicate spine crack and crumble!

The Lord my rock, my redeemer? Love I can’t

Taste or see, touch or perceive, but doubt I shan’t.

Oh Mija my daughter, tremble no longer

Death defeated, Jesus prevails and conquers.

And with your mother please keep calm and just wait,

Because to the heavens is my old soul’s fate.