Barrio Obrero to La Quince
Walking is a process in ruins,
a dead history.
You inhabit the ruin and you find
a coin here and there rolling on the ground.
Men without eyes are threshing away time
in Santurce’s surviving businesses.
It makes you want to cry
or sneak into the yards and pluck the fruits
of so many inhabitable houses
with boarded-up windows and doors.
The city is full of homeless people.
The city is full of poor immigrants dreaming of the United States.
Perhaps leaving and coming back makes you a foreigner.
There’s so much you don’t know about Puerto Rico now.
You begin discovering it by walking.
by Nicole Cecilia Delgado
from the Academy of American Poets
translation: Urayoán Noel
Original Spanish @ Read more

Is language adequate to describe experience? Are words good enough?
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THE GREATEST AND MOST UNDEFINABLE
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