Gonz lez


 HAITIAN SLAVE

 to Lydia Milagros GonzAlez


Standing at his doorstep
and in the heart of the canefield
the Haitian is a slave
bathed in blood and fire.

When the green furrow burns
and sweat cuts the stalk,
the sun of fatigue climbs up
on the edge of the machete.

The williwaw swoops through the ravine
scouring both mud and grief.
The Haitian's lament
is his only comfort.

He bends his spine
like a wasted reed
and his eyes flood
like a dark fog.

He dreams of the humble hut
where his wife wastes away,
lost in the reverie
of all things impermanent.

And his heavenly children
wounded in their very lives,
bellies full
of earthly worms.

The endless canefield
dogs himdogs him,
and the white--world-owner--
follows him everywhere.

He's the negro, free and brave,
who knows how to fell the chain,
who wasn't born to pain
in an academy of slaves.


 ENCLAVE LAITIKM

 A Lydia Milagros Gonztles



A la limited du batey
et au centre du champ de canna
l'Haltien eat un esclave
qui dans sang et feu se baigne.

Quand brQle le sillon vert
quand la sueur brise l'6pi
par le trenchant de la machette
monte le soleil de la fatigue.

Par le foess descend le vent
trainant boue et desolation.
1'Hattien pour consolation
n'a plus qua son tourment.

Son dos est tout courbd
tel une fleur de canne Apuis6e
et son regard s'inonde
come d'un brouillard sombre.

Il rtve sa cabane disol6e
ob son spouse g6mit
lui 6perdu, &gar&,
tout est-il fini.

De ses enfants c6lestes
4ont la vie est bless6e
il voit le venture gonfl4
farci de vers de terre.

Il te pursuit, il te pursuit
le champ de canne profonde
et le blanc patron du monde
enconre et partout te suit.

Toi le noir libre at brave
qui sais briser les chaTnes,
tu n'es pas nd pour la pine
dans une academie d'esclaves.