April 29, 1991, Semana De La Raza Page 3 |
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POETRY
rHICAN
Onion,
luminous globe,
petal by petal
your beauty was shaped,
scales of crystal increased you
and in tbe secret of the dark earth
like dew
your round belly grew.
The miracle occured
under tbe soil,
and when your clumsy green
sprouts appeared, like swords,
they knifed through the garden,
and tbe earth gathered all her might
to display your transparent nakedness,
as in Aphrodite in lost waters
tbe Magnolia was duplicated
to lift her breast,
tbe earth created you
in such a way,
onion,
clear like a planet,
and destined
to glow,
a constant constellation,
a water rose compass,
on the table
of the poor.
Canorous
you undo
your bulb of freshness
in the burning consummation
of the cooktngpot,
and the shreds of Crystal
in tbe hot oil
transformed into curiy feathers of gold.
I will remember how fecund
is your influence in tbe love salad,
it seems heaven contributed
to giving you the fine shape of hail
to celebrate your chopped glow
over the hemispheres of a tomato.
Yet, within tbe reach
of the common folk,
moistened with oil,
sprinkled
with a bit of salt,
you kilt the hunger
of tbe worker in bard times.
Star of the poor,
fairy godmother
wrapped
in delicate
paper, you come from the earth,
eternal, intact, pure
like a seed from tbe heavenly body,
and upon cutting you,
tbe knife in tbe kitchen
brings forth tbe only tear
without grief .
You made us cry without suffering.
And all that is, onion,
I celebrate, to me you am
lovelier than a bird
with blinding feathers,
you are to my eyes
a celestial sphere, a platinum goblet,
a motionless dance
of tbe snowy anemone
and the fragrance of tbe earth
lives in your crystalline nature.
"CONQUERER"
WHITE BOYFRIEND doesn't like it
when she's TOO DARK
WHITE BOYFRIEND Ooesnt like it
when she's TOO A WARE
when she's TOO STRONG
TOO ANGRY
TOO WARRING
TOOCHICANA
WHITE BOYFRIEND cools her
he clams her
be makes love to her
tries to whiten her
keeps her away from those who remembet
tries to pacifyher
to conquer her spirit
and be says he loves
her
by Sheron E. Quintero
An Ode To Kuei-Cben Su
Kuei-Chen Su was a beautiful flower.
Uprooted from her Taiwanese Garden.
She was transported far across sea
to attend our distant university.
When Kuei-Cben Su arrived,
so alive and ready to learn,
our valley was in drought
and the World was at war.
I know the angels took Kuei-Chen Su.
The heavens opened and ended our drought
and to heaven I know she ascended,
for when she died the war soon ended.
When I was in South-East Asia,
on the beach looking East,
across the Pacific,
being home would sure be terrific.
I wish that today Kuei-Cben Su could
stand on the opposite beach,
by the waters of Frisco Bay
and say, I will go home today.
byfohn Garcia
By Pablo Neruda
Translated byfulio Leal
Mijefesito,
He gets up at five in the morning,
There is no need to go over the plan,
He bos rooted deep under bis sombrero,
Mtjefesita,
Tan chula y bella,
Tambien se necesita en la guerra,
Always at thejefe's side,
She roles our energy supply with pride,
Mifefesito,
He banded me the glorious weapon,
Straight, long and with a metal plate,
I can hardly carry it, but I bold it with honor,
Mifamtiia,
We all get our caballo made of iron, ready for battle.
My jefesito's face shows deep concern for our survival,
But he says nothing
We ride silent to our destination.
The Battle
We are not alone, all the solaados wait for us before they begin to fight.
Out ofrespeto, my jefesito gets off the horse first,
Then we follow, trying to mimic his revolutionary posture,
We position ourselves in a military line.
Shoulder to shoulder, we point our weapons at the focused enemy,
We bow our beads to keep the burning rays on top of our sombreros.
And we pressed our weapons against them,
One by one they fall and wither away.
The Outcome
The battle lasted 12 hours,
we lost only two who felt faint,
TJjeir casualties were severe,
We thought we bad extinguished all of them,
Bui then, tbe captain went back.
Took out his weapon,
And killed those who almost got away.
The Retreat
All tbe solaados were exhausted,
Dirt trails were left on dry the ground
as the solaados dragged their weapons to the rhythm
of their tired feet,
Mijefesito, pround that we bad survived,
Allows us to mount the caballo first,
All the generates gather to hear tbe captain's plan for tomorrow,
We bad won tbe battle,
But my jefesito returned with a depressed expression on bis face.
He tells us,
Tomorrow we do not fight, tbe battle is over.
I will go to tbe capital and redeem our reward.'
But I tell him,
'Perdone, fefe, Tomorrow is Domingo,
tbe unemployment office is closed.'
We rode home, no one spoke a word.
by Eduardo T. Perez
Applications are now being
accepted for editor in chief
of La Voz de Aztlan
Call 278-2486
for information
Object Description
| Title | 1991_04 The Daily Collegian April 1991 |
| Alternative Title | Daily Collegian (California State University, Fresno) |
| Publisher | Associated Students of Fresno State, Fresno, Calif. |
| Publication Date | 1991 |
| Description | Daily (except weedends) during the school year. Microfilm. Palo Alto, Calif.: BMI Library Microfilms, 1986- microfilm reels; 35 mm. Vol.1, no.1 (Feb 8, 1922)- |
| Subject | California State University, Fresno -- Periodicals. |
| Contributors | Associated Students of Fresno State. |
| Coverage | Vol.1 no.1 (Feb 8, 1922)- to present |
| Format | Microfilm reels, 35 mm. |
| Technical Information | Scanned at 600 dpi; TIFF; Microfilm ScanPro 2000 "E-image data" |
| Language | eng |
Description
| Title | April 29, 1991, Semana De La Raza Page 3 |
| Alternative Title | Daily Collegian (California State University, Fresno) |
| Publisher | Associated Students of Fresno State, Fresno, Calif. |
| Publication Date | 1991 |
| Description | Daily (except weedends) during the school year. Microfilm. Palo Alto, Calif.: BMI Library Microfilms, 1986- microfilm reels; 35 mm. Vol.1, no.1 (Feb 8, 1922)- |
| Subject | California State University, Fresno -- Periodicals. |
| Contributors | Associated Students of Fresno State. |
| Coverage | Vol.1 no.1 (Feb 8, 1922)- to present |
| Format | Microfilm reels, 35 mm. |
| Technical Information | Scanned at 600 dpi; TIFF; Microfilm ScanPro 2000 "E-image data" |
| Language | eng |
| Full-Text-Search | POETRY rHICAN Onion, luminous globe, petal by petal your beauty was shaped, scales of crystal increased you and in tbe secret of the dark earth like dew your round belly grew. The miracle occured under tbe soil, and when your clumsy green sprouts appeared, like swords, they knifed through the garden, and tbe earth gathered all her might to display your transparent nakedness, as in Aphrodite in lost waters tbe Magnolia was duplicated to lift her breast, tbe earth created you in such a way, onion, clear like a planet, and destined to glow, a constant constellation, a water rose compass, on the table of the poor. Canorous you undo your bulb of freshness in the burning consummation of the cooktngpot, and the shreds of Crystal in tbe hot oil transformed into curiy feathers of gold. I will remember how fecund is your influence in tbe love salad, it seems heaven contributed to giving you the fine shape of hail to celebrate your chopped glow over the hemispheres of a tomato. Yet, within tbe reach of the common folk, moistened with oil, sprinkled with a bit of salt, you kilt the hunger of tbe worker in bard times. Star of the poor, fairy godmother wrapped in delicate paper, you come from the earth, eternal, intact, pure like a seed from tbe heavenly body, and upon cutting you, tbe knife in tbe kitchen brings forth tbe only tear without grief . You made us cry without suffering. And all that is, onion, I celebrate, to me you am lovelier than a bird with blinding feathers, you are to my eyes a celestial sphere, a platinum goblet, a motionless dance of tbe snowy anemone and the fragrance of tbe earth lives in your crystalline nature. "CONQUERER" WHITE BOYFRIEND doesn't like it when she's TOO DARK WHITE BOYFRIEND Ooesnt like it when she's TOO A WARE when she's TOO STRONG TOO ANGRY TOO WARRING TOOCHICANA WHITE BOYFRIEND cools her he clams her be makes love to her tries to whiten her keeps her away from those who remembet tries to pacifyher to conquer her spirit and be says he loves her by Sheron E. Quintero An Ode To Kuei-Cben Su Kuei-Chen Su was a beautiful flower. Uprooted from her Taiwanese Garden. She was transported far across sea to attend our distant university. When Kuei-Cben Su arrived, so alive and ready to learn, our valley was in drought and the World was at war. I know the angels took Kuei-Chen Su. The heavens opened and ended our drought and to heaven I know she ascended, for when she died the war soon ended. When I was in South-East Asia, on the beach looking East, across the Pacific, being home would sure be terrific. I wish that today Kuei-Cben Su could stand on the opposite beach, by the waters of Frisco Bay and say, I will go home today. byfohn Garcia By Pablo Neruda Translated byfulio Leal Mijefesito, He gets up at five in the morning, There is no need to go over the plan, He bos rooted deep under bis sombrero, Mtjefesita, Tan chula y bella, Tambien se necesita en la guerra, Always at thejefe's side, She roles our energy supply with pride, Mifefesito, He banded me the glorious weapon, Straight, long and with a metal plate, I can hardly carry it, but I bold it with honor, Mifamtiia, We all get our caballo made of iron, ready for battle. My jefesito's face shows deep concern for our survival, But he says nothing We ride silent to our destination. The Battle We are not alone, all the solaados wait for us before they begin to fight. Out ofrespeto, my jefesito gets off the horse first, Then we follow, trying to mimic his revolutionary posture, We position ourselves in a military line. Shoulder to shoulder, we point our weapons at the focused enemy, We bow our beads to keep the burning rays on top of our sombreros. And we pressed our weapons against them, One by one they fall and wither away. The Outcome The battle lasted 12 hours, we lost only two who felt faint, TJjeir casualties were severe, We thought we bad extinguished all of them, Bui then, tbe captain went back. Took out his weapon, And killed those who almost got away. The Retreat All tbe solaados were exhausted, Dirt trails were left on dry the ground as the solaados dragged their weapons to the rhythm of their tired feet, Mijefesito, pround that we bad survived, Allows us to mount the caballo first, All the generates gather to hear tbe captain's plan for tomorrow, We bad won tbe battle, But my jefesito returned with a depressed expression on bis face. He tells us, Tomorrow we do not fight, tbe battle is over. I will go to tbe capital and redeem our reward.' But I tell him, 'Perdone, fefe, Tomorrow is Domingo, tbe unemployment office is closed.' We rode home, no one spoke a word. by Eduardo T. Perez Applications are now being accepted for editor in chief of La Voz de Aztlan Call 278-2486 for information |
