Mi padre era un gitano

Mi padre era un gitano en el pueblo.
A la edad de dieciséis años abandonó su hogar.
Cambió su sangre roja  para el traje de negocios
Del hombre blanco.
Mi hermana llora su corazón.
No se le permite bailar
El flamenco,
Intenso latido
de Vagabundos.
Mi guitarra está ardiendo en el fuego
Y las hojas de música están mojadas.
© Yelling Rosa
16/6 -17

Mi Patre Era un Tsigano © Yelling Rosa 2017
Mi Padre by © Yelling Rosa 2017

My Father Was a Gypsy

My father was a gypsy in the village.
At the age of sixteen he left his home.
He exchanged his red blood
for the white man’s business suit.
My sister cries her heart out.
She isn’t allowed to dance
the flamenco,
intense beat
Of vagabonds.
My guitar is burning in the fire
And music sheets are wet.
© Yelling Rosa
16/6 –17

About Yelling Rosa

I am retired. In my spare time I read, write, play the guitar and hike. I have published three verse books in Finnish and recorded my songs. You can listen to them on YouTube. I have translated some of my poems on Yelling Rosa's Weblog. I also like to watch movies. Olen kiinnostunut lukemisesta, kirjoittamisesta, kitaransoitosta ja luonnossa vaeltamisesta. Olen julkaissut kolme runokirjaa ja laulujani on äänitteillä. Voit lukea runojani Yelling Rosan kotisivuilta ja kuunnella laulujani YouTubessa. Olen elokuvafriikki.
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33 Responses to Mi padre era un gitano

  1. Pingback: Mi padre era un gitano — Yellingrosa’s Weblog | O LADO ESCURO DA LUA

  2. poeturja says:

    A truly lovely work of art. Both sides of my family emigrated to the US and because skin pigmentation was light, “passed” as Europeans. I, too, was not allowed to do the “dance…of vagabonds” as you so gracefully write. My Gran, fortunately, taught me much of the culture, but never the language. How sad that many of us (no matter the culture) must bury the beauty of diversity…


    • Yelling Rosa says:

      Thank you for your analytic comment. I agree with you and I believe that in the future all over the world we (the people) will be losing even more of our identity because of this globalization.
      But this weekend let you ukulele sing ❤

      Liked by 2 people

    • poeturja says:

      Oh, wow! Loved your video! Great voice and music! No, I haven’t made a video of me singing (although I did a few reading my poetry but need to re-do them). My voice is not what it was and even though I’ve played ukulele for 2 years, I’m still not good enough to play in public. But thanks for asking!


  3. Colltales says:

    Hermoso. Pero los niños se acuerdan de su papá, raramente de su ‘padre.’ Eso viene con el tiempo. Así mesmo sencillo, ala Garcia Lorca. Y el dibujo es raro. Congrats


  4. jfwknifton says:

    That’s really lovely and an excellent aid for any kids learning Spanish.


  5. newwhitebear says:

    Beautiful this poem! Really nice.
    A warm greeting


  6. mlrover says:

    Lovely poem! Gracias.


  7. Christy B says:

    I am hoping that your sleep quality will improve soon, YR 🙂 I know you want 2 hours before bed to rest away from the computer.. hope all improves for you soon. Lovely poem!


  8. You pay your dad great homage with this fantastic poem — we should all be proud of our heritage. I loved the illustration of your dad, as well and seems to show all the different facets that made him unique…. like a gem.


  9. BroadBlogs says:

    You write beautifully. 🙂


  10. sherazade says:

    Hi my friend!
    Have a nice sunday


    Liked by 1 person

  11. Lorraine says:

    Wonderful poetic imagery of remembories of gypsy rhythms lost.


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