The following poem was translated from Zarpamos, a selection of
poems by the Oaxacan poet Guadalupe Ángela, translated from Spanish
into English by Yael Kiken. This is the first time this poems has been
translated into English. Rights have been secured to publish this translation.

English Translation
[We were several women]

We were several women
who had built
vessels out of leather
to heed the call.

The fortress
was arranged in a spiral
and that day they opened
the entrance for us.

We began to enter the water.
Some pedaled, others
used sails, propellers, paddles,
others had gathered so much strength
that they were blowing.

We were going towards the center
where waiting for us was
the bird who would hand down
the word which belonged
to each one of us.

We were in a hurry;
we had lost the
scent of land.

Some preferred drowning
before arrival.
We knew the word
would burn our clothing
but still, we did not want
to waste any more time.

We would have to
take the word gingerly
between our palms
even though its texture
would change us.

We’d left behind
all those
who we had helped,
believing we were their caregivers.

Even though I knew of some
who, after receiving
the word, could no longer
maintain balance
and became so dizzy
they vomited.

It was not easy
because before giving us
the word with its beak,
a man with a wheel
sharpened it
and sparks flew
as we heard a sound
that tickled.

By now I was close.
The bird observed
from its tower
how I anchored
my raft and ascended
the first rungs.
The word in its beak
looked like a yellow flower
and it came to me.

Original
[Éramos varias mujeres]

Éramos varias mujeres
quienes habíamos construido
las naves de cuero
para acudir al llamado.

. La fortificación
. se había dispuesto en espiral
. y ese día nos abrieron
. la entrada.

. Comenzamos a entrar al agua
. algunas pedaleaban, otras
. llevaban velas, hélices, remos,
. otras tenían tanta fuerza
. acumulada que soplaban.

Íbamos hacia el centro
donde nos esperaba
el ave que nos daría
la palabra que nos pertenecía
a cada una.

. Teníamos prisa,
. habíamos perdido
. el olfato hacía la tierra.

. Algunas prefirieron ahogarse
. antes de llegar
. sabíamos que la palabra
. nos quemaría la ropa,
. pero aun así, no deseábamos
. desperdiciar más tiempo,

. Habría que tomar
. con delicadeza
. la palabra entre las manos
. aunque nos alterara
. su textura.

Habíamos dejado atrás
a todos aquellos
a quienes habíamos asistido
creyéndonos enfermeras.

Aunque supe de algunas
que , después de recibir
la palabra no podían mantener el equilibrio
y mareaban hasta el vómito.

No era facil
porque antes de darnos
la palabra con su pico,
un hombre con una rueda
la afilaba y salían chispas
mientras oíamos un sonido
que cosquilleaba.

Ya estaba cerca
El ave observo
Desde su torre
Como anclaba
Mi balsa y subia yo
Los primeros peldaños
La palabra en su pico
Parecía flor amarilla
Y venia.

Author of poem:
Guadalupe Ángela (1969-2020) was a prolific writer and beloved teacher from Oaxaca, Mexico. Her work is part of the anthologies Tres ventanas a la literatura oaxaqueña actual (2005), Oaxaca: Siete poetas (2006), and Anuario de poesía. Her work is anthologized in Zarpamos, which has been translated into Italian and German. Ángela was an integral part of the robust literary community in Oaxaca, organizing frequent readings and workshops.

Translator of poem into English:
Yael Kiken is a professor and poetry translator who has studied literatureat the University of Michigan and Georgetown University and has taught writing in a wide range of settings, including DC and Michigan correctional facilities, DCPS elementary schools, and international classrooms in Honduras and Oaxaca. She currently teaches writing at Howard University and lives in Washington, D.C.

Featured image “Oaxacan wood carvings. Visitor Center art show, May 30, 2015.” Uploaded by Santa Monica Mountains National Recreation Area to be licensed via creative commons 2.0 via Wikimedia Commons.