Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Raising (Hell In) Arizona

For Governor Jan Brewer, With Apologies To Emma Lazarus

It would seem that some of us have forgotten what it means to be Americans, children of immigrants all!

El nuevo coloso

No como el gigante de bronce de la fama griega,

Con la conquista de los miembros a horcajadas de tierra a tierra;

Aquí en nuestro mar-lavado, puertas de la puesta del sol se levantará

Una mujer poderosa con una antorcha, cuya llama

¿Es el rayo en prisión, y su nombre

Madre de los Exiliados. Desde su faro de ocasión

Brilla la bienvenida a todo el mundo, su comando de ojos dulces

El puerto de puente aéreo que enmarcan las ciudades gemelas.

"Mantener las antiguas tierras, su pompa legendaria!" llora

Con los labios en silencio. "Dame tus cansados, tus pobres,

Su muchedumbres que ansían respirar en libertad,

Los miserables rechazados de vuestras rebosantes orillas.

Envía a estos, las personas sin hogar, tempestad Tost-a mí,

Yo levanto mi lámpara al lado de la puerta dorada! "

4 comments:

  1. America, Land of the Free?Tuesday, April 27, 2010 4:49:00 PM

    After they come after the Latinos in Arizona, who will they come after next?

    Is this America, or Nazi Germany? What the #@!%^&! is going on in this country?

    ReplyDelete
  2. Too much hatred in America; in the world. It's as if the entire plant jas gone mad...

    ReplyDelete
  3. Lo siento, pero mi espanol es muy malo.

    And so is Altavista's translation software.

    Not like the bronze giant of the Greek fame, With the conquest of the earth members astride to earth; Here in our sea-washing, doors of the putting of the sun will rise A powerful woman with a torch, whose flame It is the ray in prison, and its name Mother of the Exiled ones. From its light of occasion She shines the welcome to everybody, its commando of sweet eyes The port of airlift that frames the twin cities. " To maintain old earth, their legendary pomp! " it cries With the lips in silence. " Dame tired your, your poor men, Its crowds that long for to breathe in freedom, The miserable ones rejected of your rebosantes borders. It sends to these, the people without home, Tost-a storm me, I raise to my lamp next to the door sea bream! "

    ReplyDelete
  4. Obviously, you shouldn't use Altavista's translation software. ;-)

    The New Colossus

    Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,

    With conquering limbs astride from land to land;

    Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand

    A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame

    Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name

    Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand

    Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command

    The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.

    "Keep ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she

    With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,

    Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

    The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

    Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,

    I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

    ReplyDelete