This month will mark 200 years of the independence of Chile. Sure to be a party of those in which no expenses spared, any more than the big stick of his life drunk or have the pleasure of dancing for the first time a foot cueca or eat the best existing pie. Although the feelings are intense and new technologies do not stop reminding us of the little party to be pasted in Chile (for a while Facebook does nothing to speak of pies, wine, roasted and livers that have enjoyed a apparent calm after the storm with their owners feed them soon got worse.) For those who are far from " promised land" of this great event, things are not at that point of "popular dieciochera madness" that has gripped Chile ... and there is some sadness accompanying the party, a hint of desire overnight funds can not supplant, just because you're not in Chile.
In that sense, this is also the bicentennial anniversary of the poem 30 dieciochero prettiest I've read, because since the book of my grandfather came to me (thanks guys in Paris) I have not stopped thinking about it now I live on September 18 abroad, just as it once did for following his convictions (but not on a voluntary basis as I have been lucky enough to do so). That's why today, with an excerpt from the words of my grandfather, I want to honor under these lines are not people, but to the feelings of those who pass away on 18.
These verses were written reflective in 1980 in the midst of an African country called Mozambique, the only thing that was of Chilean exiles were. My grandfather on the day (to fix the teeth of people) was a poet, perhaps as we are all Chileans then and now for the September 18.
NO FLAGS
is September 18
and no flags. Neither
kites or greasy pole,
or arbors, or cuecas.
People walk down the street indifferent
as if nothing happened.
is Monday.
new week begins.
is September 18
and nobody seems to realize. Eighteen
September!
Today the country is a party! Here
military chords are not heard. There
Te Deum in the church.
Chileans have converged
to drink beer ...
Today is September 18!
On this date,
bad as things are, the Chilean
happy as Easter and New Year,
fits anyway.
and wine provided
friend when the party or the penalty,
be absent among us today.
There is no wine, only beer ... We
chauvinists and country
hurts more from the outside.
But ours is a
chauvinism with a huge moral support, to transcendence, and quality
,
attached to the land
with unstoppable force that surpasses
flag and fanfare clumsy military ...
is sad to walk the streets indolent
in a foreign land
thinking, a September 18
no banners.
remember what is sad is the patria
when spring begins to appear. Sad walking
thinking that will never again be what it was ...
Imagining how sad it must be
live in it today. And how sad
away the afternoon
when you think ...
is Monday.
The street is deserted.
night has fallen gradually
hugging the trees in shadow ...
is September 18
and no flags ...!
We walk into the night
to seek solace in beer. Alberto Reyes
Lapiedra
Overseas Recados
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