You told me your schoolfriends called you little frog
because of your slightly bulging eyes, amiga hermana
and like an amphibian, you emerged from the river
into a new land without meeting those who
would have called you “Wet back”
and sent you whence you came
which is why to me, querido, you are Amfibio
for you brought me the gift of insights
of one who has travelled between borders
you are Alebrije – your travel has given you wings
wings that brought you and your fantastic colours
into my life, querida.
What Divina Providencia brought you to my door querida?
What spirit guided your path, melded our destinies?
You asked for work as a live-in ama de casa
to support your family back in Mexico
and you fulfilled a need I didn’t even know I had
and our relationship became hardly that
of employer and employed
Then came the Orange Chupacabrón
the devil who demands all the attention
consumes all the oxygen and sucks all the blood
– this trickster wants to send your kind
back to Mexico and elsewhere as if you are
una cifra insignificante
he would make you an apachurrado
a hat run over by a truck
but he did not reckon with me
At first you shrugged “ Ni modo…”
but I was encabronada
well and trulypissed-off but also I had Susto – fear
down to my very soul
fear for me, for you,
for your family, for my country
I would not see you become
Un pobre infeliz and so
We sealed off the entrance to the cellar
concealed a new entrance behind the mirror
made a safe refuge for you and others
told the shop where you used to shop for us
not without irony, that you had been swept up
and disappeared by the orange one’s minions
and I arranged for a Mexican run shop
with simpática, to deliver discretely
enough food for whomsoever we hid…
Now we have an underground railway
– not to escape victims of the orange one
but to hold them until safe houses can be found
– we did not need the magic of shamans
to defeat the Chupacabrón
we did not need to pick poisonous Toloache
or summon the Cenzontle to do battle
on our behalf because, after all
we are hermanas bajo la piel
© Andrew Wilson, 2025
Over at dVerse Poets Pub, Dora in Poetics, invites us to write a poem using one or more of the poetically interpreted Spanish words in a poem by Sandra Cisneros…
Sandra Cisneros (b. 1954), in Chicago, the only daughter in a family of six brothers. In her stories and poems, she deals with the formation of Chicana identity, exploring the challenges of being caught between Mexican and Anglo-American cultures, facing the misogynist attitudes present in both these cultures, and the constant migration of her family between Mexico and the United States, “always straddling two countries but not belonging to either culture.”
In “I Have No Word in English For,” Cisneros lists twenty-five Spanish words dictionary-like but non-alphabetically, yet seemingly objectively. You soon discover that each definition appropriates a keenly personal shade of meaning.
I Have No Word in English For
By Sandra Cisneros (The New Yorker print edition, September 16, 2024)
Apachurrado. Hat run over by a truck. Heart run over by unrequited love.
Estrenar. To show off what’s new gloriously.
Engentada. People-overdose malaise.
A estas alturas. Superb vista with age.
Encabronada/o. A volatile, combustible rage.
Susto. Fear that spooks the soul away.
Ni modo. Wise acceptance of what fate doles.
Aguante. Miraculous Mexican power to endure conquest, tragedy, politicos.
Ánimo. A joyous zap of fire.
Divina Providencia. Destiny with choices and spiritual interventions.
Nagual. Animal twin assigned at birth.
Amfibio. Person with the gift of global perspective due to living between borders.
Alebrije. Amfibio with wings from geographical travel.
Ombligo. Buried umbilical. Center of the universe.
Toloache. Love concoction made with moonflower and menstrual blood.
Tocaya/o. Name double. Automatic friend.
Amiga hermana. Heart sister closer than kin.
Un pobre infeliz. The walking wounded maimed by land mines of life.
Un inocente. Mind askew since birth; blameless.
Chupacabrón/a. Energy vampire disguised in human form.
Cenzontle. Tranquillity transmitter in bird or human form.
Friolenta/o. Tropical blood. Vulnerable to chills.
Chípil. Melancholia due to an unborn sibling en route.
Desamor. Heart bleeding like xoconostle fruit.
Xoconostle. Must I explain everything for you?
I have used some of Cisneros’ words, sometimes with her poetic meaning and sometimes their literal meanings, given below.
Apachurrado – squashed, down
Encabronada – pissed off (slang) angry
Susto – fright
Ni modo – “that’s life”, “oh well”, or “what can you do”
Divina Providencia – divine providence
Amfibio – amphibian
Alebrije – a type of Mexican folk art sculpture, typically a brightly colored, fantastical creature made from paper-mâché or wood
Toloache – literally – the plant with nodding head – Datura, a highly poisonous flower
Amiga hermana – friend sister
Un pobre infeliz – a poor unfortunate
Chupacabrón – a legendary creature, or cryptid, in the folklore of parts of the Americas. The name comes from the animal’s purported vampirism.
Cenzontle – the mockingbird, a bird known for its ability to mimic the songs of other birds
I also used some other Spanish phrases
Querida – Dear (one)
hermanas bajo la piel – Sisters under the skin
ama de casa – housekeeper
una cifra insignificant – an insignificant person
simpática – sympathetichermanas bajo la piel – Sisters under the skin
simpática – sympathetic
This was fun and intriguing to read, Andrew. Only the format made it hard–everything running together–but perhaps that was intentional? I wasn’t clear whether the first half was the piece you wrote, using Spanish words used by Sandra Cisneros in “I Have No Word in English For”? Is that right? I lived in New Mexico for a time, back in the late 1970s, where I read my first Spanglish newspaper. Ever since, I have enjoyed Spanish words intermingled with English. The context of “Querida” made the translation almost unnecessary–it made perfect sense to me as I read it. (And BTW, whenever I see the word querida, I think of my first encounter with it in the original Addams Family TV series, in which Gomez always called Morticia Querida.)
You got it, thanksn Josna – mine was first and I included the whole of I Have No Words because of the more poetic interpretations therein. I thought it was pretty easy to translate in context but then you have familiarity with Spanish…
Love the Addams family link lol
Oh, now I see perfect formatting for your post! When I first read it, everything flowed together in one block of text. It makes perfect sense now. Sadly, my knowledge of Spanish is still woefully inadequate, especially in a country where it really is the second language. Studying it more seriously is one of the items on my retirement To Do list.
How beautifully it began! But into this Divina providencia of a loving relationship comes the Orange Chupacabrón to despoil the harmony and we feel the alarm, the anger, the fear that now fuels the activity of the persona. I love the close: “after all/we are hermanas bajo la piel.” To realize this is to realize the harmony waiting to be restored among all peoples torn apart. Your conjugal use of Spanish and English is so poetically fluid, Andrew. A pleasure to read.
This is probably a story that will be told over and over when all of the sudden all that beauty that have built by having a place of many colors… how much fear must govern the people who have never seen the beauty of what can be done when things are mixed… and in the richness of a mixed language.
I was drawn in by the narrative flow, and was gathered up by your multi-meaning use of amfibio (one of my family nicknames was Froggie, on acount of my cold feet).
I loved the way the simpatica shop delivered food for the hidden ones – behind the mirror. I was reminded of ‘The Diary of Anne Frank’ which I read as a teenager. Similar tenderness here.
Thank you for your humanity expressed here, Andrew.
Plaudits to you. As someone who has lived in Mexico for 24 years and who has received support from so many of my Mexican friend/employees and families, I so appreciate your efforts, but hope the cursed orange one or his minions do not read your blog!!
Very well written, Andrew. You have really put a lot of thought into your work. A great and powerful story that sadly rings true these days.