I do not know how to love you in English
Transcriber: Maurício Kakuei Tanaka
Reviewer: omar idmassaoud
I cannot tell by its rhythm
where this heart was born.
It is only music pulsing through palms.
We know this when we hold hands.
Let whispers tickle ears
whatever language they assume.
I do not know how to cry in English.
No sé como llorar en español.
Tears are born world citizens.
They do not need to speak
to find each other,
to rush into rivers that cannot be dammed.
I will not ask the wind where it is from.
It would only answer
with its coming and going,
does not recognize these fences or lines,
does not even see them.
I will not ask the monarchs
for a passport,
will not pinch them from the air
and pin them for their passage,
will not shoot them as they fly away.
I will not shush the roaring seas
beating upon the boarder
from another nation’s shore,
will not pretend its origin
is worth less or more.
We are, each of us,
worth our weight in water
or in papeles.
I will not ask each grain of sand
from whence it came,
will not interrogate the sediments
and segregate them by shade.
I will not cast a net around the beaches.
I do not know how to love you in English.
No sé como te amo en español.
Only know that all life begins with love.
They cannot be walled or conquered.
I do not know where love comes from,
only know that it resides in me,
in the descansos dotting the desert.
I do not know what language bullets speak,
have only ever heard them
whisper past my head
in words I do not wish
to remember or repeat.
Would rather press palm to palm
and whisper poems.
Give us your tired, your poor,
your huddled masses
yearning to breathe free.
Would rather smile
warm as stew-filled belly,
and break bread.
I will not ask the flames
I cook with for identification
when they burn more orange
than red, white or blue
as I do not know how to eat in English.
No sé como comer en español.
I do not know how to breathe in English.
No sé como respirar en español.
I do not know how to bleed in English.
No sé como sangrar en español.
But I think it is the same.
Creo que es lo mismo.
Con mis palabras y con mi lengua rota,
yo trato hablar.
With my words and with my broken tongue,
I try to speak.
♪ I am a sleeping giant ♪
♪ There lives a riot in my bones ♪
♪ I am a mouth full of sea ♪
♪ I am a quiet indigo dawn ♪
Sometimes hope is the only space
between your face and a hard rock.
And prayer is the only major
in the school of the hard knocks.
Blisters on my feet
from seeking, walking for blocks.
I can tell light from shadow,
hear the truth talks.
I’m so moved.
I remove both of my shoes,
shake out the rocks
and brace myself for the walk.
And it’s a long road,
but my spirit is ready.
I’m laying down my armor
cause it’s gotten too heavy.
♪ I am a sleeping giant ♪
♪ There lives a riot in my bones ♪
♪ I am a mouth full of sea ♪
♪ I am a quiet indigo dawn ♪
The only real constant in my life is me.
I change pace and change lanes,
still in the driver’s seat,
slay demons, smash walls
when they’re blocking me,
hiding weapons in the world
while I’m looking for peace.
I said my peace, hold my peace,
seek the east for new horizons.
I’m climbing, crying
while trying to find the highest,
dying to find light beyond the brightest.
I try to be beacon you’ve been seeking,
dispelling all the shadows,
the sun, moon, stars commune
to show you where the light goes,
how wind blows, Earth turns,
river runs, and fire burns.
I’m still here, I’m still now,
like lightning is urgent,
and thunder is loud.
♪ These old winds ♪
♪ Stirring up the ground around me ♪
♪ Some said freedom
must have come and found me ♪
♪ Cause I’ve been breaking up
would bound me around here ♪
♪ So I can breathe ♪
♪ I am a sleeping giant ♪
♪ There lives a riot in my bones ♪