Today I'll be reciting Bilingual/Bilingüe By Rhina P. Espaillat.
My father liked them separate, one there,one here (allá y aquí), as if aware
that words might cut in two his daughter’s heart(el corazón) and lock the alien part
to what he was—his memory, his name(su nombre)—with a key he could not claim.
“English outside this door, Spanish inside,”he said, “y basta.” But who can divide
the world, the word (mundo y palabra) fromany child? I knew how to be dumb
and stubborn (testaruda); late, in bed,I hoarded secret syllables I read
until my tongue (mi lengua) learned to runwhere his stumbled. And still the heart was one.
I like to think he knew that, even when,proud (orgulloso) of his daughter’s pen,
he stood outside mis versos, half in fearof words he loved but wanted not to hear.