{"id":142,"date":"2021-11-15T11:16:03","date_gmt":"2021-11-15T18:16:03","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/palabrasmadres\/?p=142"},"modified":"2021-11-21T21:58:29","modified_gmt":"2021-11-22T04:58:29","slug":"yankuray-sueno-que-cae-dream-that-falls","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/palabrasmadres\/2021\/11\/15\/yankuray-sueno-que-cae-dream-that-falls\/","title":{"rendered":"Ya\u00f1k\u00fcray \/ Sue\u00f1o Que Cae \/ Dream That Falls"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/p>\n

\u201cAhora s\u00f3lo escucha,\u201d \/ \u201cNow just listen,\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

UBC Botanical Garden, BC (image by Olivia Crozier)<\/span><\/p>\n

This photo was taken at the UBC Botanical Garden that flourishes on the traditional, ancestral, and unceded land of the <\/span>x\u02b7m\u0259\u03b8k\u02b7\u0259y\u0313\u0259m (Musqueam) First Nation. The garden was quiet, but I could hear the raindrops falling softly into the creek, which reminded me of a guiding path.<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

poeta: Carlos Levi Re\u00f1inao (Poema #9)<\/span>
\ntraducci\u00f3n por: Olivia Crozier<\/span> (grupo #9)<\/p>\n

Ya\u00f1k\u00fcray<\/strong><\/p>\n

Kiz\u00fa \u00f1i pu k\u00fcll\u00e9
\n<\/span>tai\u00f1 pu ng\u00e9 \u00f1i k\u00fcll\u00e9ngetuy,
\n<\/span>tai\u00f1 p\u00fcch\u00fckechengekefuel \u00f1i m\u00fclf\u00e9n llenga.<\/span><\/p>\n

Kiz\u00fa \u00f1i pu moll\u00f3 tai\u00f1 mong\u00e9we llemay,
\n<\/span>ay\u00fcwmayew t\u00fck\u00falpan
\n<\/span>\u00fcy\u00e9chi pu kuyf\u00edke t\u00fck\u00fakan mew.<\/span><\/p>\n

Kiz\u00fa \u00f1i pu longko
\n<\/span>ta wen\u00famapu \u00f1i traytr\u00e1yen llengat\u00ed
\n<\/span>chew ta lik\u00e1nk\u00fclemum ta truf\u00fcr
\n<\/span>ta imp\u00f3lnetew ta i\u00f1chi\u00f1.<\/span><\/p>\n

Pu k\u00fcr\u00fcfmu ta
\n<\/span>zewm\u00e1nerpuyi\u00f1 tai\u00f1 payn\u00e9 ach\u00e9f\u00fcnmapu.
\n<\/span>Fey \u00fcy\u00e9nga kiz\u00fa \u00f1i m\u00fcl\u00e9wengetuy ta\u00f1i laym\u00e1wal.<\/span><\/p>\n

Kiz\u00fa \u00f1i pu paftr\u00e1 ang\u00e9
\n<\/span>wutr\u00fakoniefi ta llam\u00fcmapu
\n<\/span>ka y\u00e9nieyng\u00fc ta man\u00e9luw\u00fcn.<\/span><\/p>\n

Afm\u00e1limi r\u00fcp\u00fc
\n<\/span>eypife ta al\u00fcmapu tai\u00f1 z\u00fcng\u00fak\u00fcnupayatew,
\n<\/span>kim\u00e9lk\u00fcnupayatew.
\n<\/span>T\u00fcf\u00e1 ta r\u00e9 allk\u00fctulenge m\u00fct\u00e9n,
\n<\/span>koch\u00fcymayew ay\u00f3ngk\u00fcli \u00f1i mapu lle tat\u00ed.<\/span><\/p>\n

Ngaf\u00fcllmafin \u00f1i p\u00fcll\u00fc,
\n<\/span>\u00f1i p\u00fcnp\u00fcn\u00fcfe nem\u00fcl.
\n<\/span>Kowt\u00fay may Ya\u00f1k\u00fcray.
\n<\/span>\u00d1i puke kuw\u00fc ta ketr\u00e1nerpuy mapu,
\n<\/span>kak\u00e9 puliw\u00e9n ta wefk\u00e9y \u00f1i awlli\u00f1.
\n<\/span>F\u00e1 may \u00f1i ch\u00fcllk\u00fc,
\n<\/span>ta\u00f1i kallf\u00fc n\u00fcm\u00fcn \u00f1i w\u00e9 wir\u00edn.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Sue\u00f1o Que Cae<\/strong><\/p>\n

Sus l\u00e1grimas
\n<\/span>son l\u00e1grimas de nuestros ojos,
\n<\/span>el roc\u00edo de nuestra infancia.<\/span><\/p>\n

Sus senos son nuestro alimento,
\n<\/span>felicidad y recuerdo
\n<\/span>de las antiguas siembras.<\/span><\/p>\n

Sus cabellos
\n<\/span>son las cascadas del cielo,
\n<\/span>donde cristalino es el polvo
\n<\/span>que nos cubre.<\/span><\/p>\n

Con los vientos
\n<\/span>hacemos nuestro jard\u00edn celestial.
\n<\/span>Y ese es su lecho hasta la muerte.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Sus mejillas
\n<\/span>riegan la madre tierra
\n<\/span>y llevan la esperanza.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Si te falta el camino
\n<\/span>dile a la distancia que nos hable,
\n<\/span>que nos ense\u00f1e.
\n<\/span>Ahora s\u00f3lo escucha,
\n<\/span>su espacio es dulce y transparente.<\/span><\/p>\n

Recorr\u00ed su esp\u00edritu,
\n<\/span>su palabra volandera.
\n<\/span>Ya\u00f1kuray se convirti\u00f3 en agua.
\n<\/span>Sus manos labran los campos,
\n<\/span>su imagen aparece cada ma\u00f1ana.
\n<\/span>Esta es su letra,
\n<\/span>la fresca escritura de su aroma azul.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Dream That Falls<\/strong><\/p>\n

Their tears
\n<\/span>are tears of our eyes,
\n<\/span>the dew of our childhood.<\/span><\/p>\n

Their breasts are our nourishment,
\n<\/span>happiness and memory
\n<\/span>of ancient sowings.<\/span><\/p>\n

Their hair
\n<\/span>is the waterfall of the sky,
\n<\/span>where crystal is the dust
\n<\/span>that covers us.<\/span><\/p>\n

With the winds
\n<\/span>we make our heavenly garden.
\n<\/span>And that is their bed until death.<\/span><\/p>\n

Their cheeks
\n<\/span>water Mother Earth
\n<\/span>and carry hope.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

If you lose your way
\n<\/span>ask them in the distance to speak to us,
\n<\/span>to teach us.
\n<\/span>Now just listen,
\n<\/span>their space is gentle and transparent.<\/span><\/p>\n

I traveled their spirit,
\n<\/span>their flying word.
\n<\/span>Ya\u00f1kuray became water.
\n<\/span>Their hands till the fields,
\n<\/span>their image appears each morning.
\nThis is their writing,
\n<\/span>the cool trace of their blue aroma.<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u201cAhora s\u00f3lo escucha,\u201d \/ \u201cNow just listen,\u201d UBC Botanical Garden, BC (image by Olivia Crozier) This photo was taken at…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":86258,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-142","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/palabrasmadres\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/142","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/palabrasmadres\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/palabrasmadres\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/palabrasmadres\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/86258"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/palabrasmadres\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=142"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/palabrasmadres\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/142\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":177,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/palabrasmadres\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/142\/revisions\/177"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/palabrasmadres\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=142"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/palabrasmadres\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=142"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/palabrasmadres\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=142"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}