Happy Birthday, José

José Martí was born today in Havana, Cuba, in 1853. He was exiled to Spain at 17, later moving to Mexico, Guatemala, and back to Cuba, from which he was again deported to Spain; he fled to France and then the US, living in New York and working for Cuban independence. He joined the war in 1895 and died shortly after the invasion.

Dos patrias

Dos patrias tengo yo: Cuba y la noche.
¿O son una las dos? No bien retira
su majestad el sol, con largos velos
y un clavel en la mano, silenciosa
Cuba cual viuda triste me aparece.
¡Yo sé cuál es ese clavel sangriento
que en la mano le tiembla! Está vacío
mi pecho, destrozado está y vacío
en donde estaba el corazón. Ya es hora
de empezar a morir. La noche es buena
para decir adiós. La luz estorba
y la palabra humana. El universo
habla mejor que el hombre.
Cual bandera
que invita a batallar, la llama roja
de la vela flamea. Las ventanas
abro, ya estrecho en mí. Muda, rompiendo
las hojas del clavel, como una nube
que enturbia el cielo, Cuba, viuda, pasa...

I have two homelands; Cuba and the night. Or are they one and the same? No sooner has the majesty of the sun retired when Cuba, with long veils and a carnation in her hand, silently appears, as if a sad widow, before me. I know what that bloody carnation is that she holds in her trembling hand! My chest is empty; destroyed and empty is the place where my heart was. Now has come the time to begin to die. The night is good for saying goodbye. The light hinders, as does the human word. The universe speaks better than man does. As a flag calling me to fight, the red light of the candle burns. The windows are opened, already intimate and dear to me. Mute, tearing apart the carnation, like a cloud which darkens the sky, Cuba, like a widow, passes.

Translation by Daniel A


(More of his poems in Spanish and in English here)