San Germán

I am almost on my way to Puerto Rico to paint this mural in my hometown, San Germán. My word for this year is "big" so why not start with an 8" x 16" mural? I will be posting about the process in Facebook, and here, if everything goes well!

I am looking forward to the process of painting the mural and I have been assured help! It is always a little scary to do something big, but it is also exciting to be able to realize this dream.

The poem: This is the only poem I have written in a long time. I was empty of words. But I love this town, so I wrote.

Amado pueblo, a ti regreso 

cada vez quemo alma busca reposo del gran mundo. 

A veces, aquellas golondrinas que se fueron un día, 

se posan firmes  en los recuerdos inventados del destierro.  

Quien ha crecido en ti 

nunca se olvida de esas formas 

que por siempre llenan 

las proporciones íntimas de la belleza. 

Tus adoquines escondidos, 

tus túneles secretos, 

tu geografía llena de alturas, 

tus breves calles donde cada tarde 

corre el agua que limpia los recuerdos, 

cumplen con la promesa que me hiciste 

cuando me marcaste  

con ansia de belleza. 

 Esas calles vacías a mediodía, 

llenas de la historia que brilla  

en cada uno de tus muros,  

y del sol en que rade tu présente, 

son el elixir de la ausencia impuesta. 

Pueblo antiguo, pueblo mío, 

esta sed de armonía  

solo tus verdes lomas 

calman entera.  

***

Beloved town, to you I return,

whenever my soul seeks rest from the great world.

Sometimes, those swallows that one day left you,

perch firmly on the invented memories of exile.

Those who grew up in you

never forget those forms

that will always fill

our intimate proportions of beauty.

Your hidden cobblestones,

your secret tunnels,

your geography full of heights,

your brief streets where every evening

the water that cleans all memories flows,

they all fulfill the promise that you made me

when you marked me

with the need for beauty.  

Those empty streets at noon,

full of history that shines

in each of your walls,

and of the sun in which your present burns,

they are the elixir of imposed absence.

Old town, my town,

this thirst for harmony

only your green hills

can fully quench.