Lengua Castellana

I used to think that it sounded exotic that my great-grand-relatives had decided to write exclusively in the Castilian language. That is until I found out from a Spanish-speaking friend that the Castilian language was basically the same dialect spoken by most of Latin America and the Spanish-speaking World.

That said, it’s a beautiful poem, and a worthy testament to the word’s ability to make the heart sing.

CASTILIAN LANGUAGE (1938)

Evaristo Ribera Chevremont
 
 
     The language that tucked my crib in words
is the language sprouted from the land of Castile.
The Poetry of Lope, without neglect,
is presented in romance, sonnet and quatrain.
 
     Not an atom of my corporal form is reluctant
to the shining touch, musical and perfect
of the language that in book, page or binder
gives, for its purity, vigorously to the concept.
 
     The language was lifted by classic flavors
in the genuine creations of beauty.
The doctors of song, those older purists,
serve me in terms of height and justice.
 
     This language–voice of centuries–is bound to my word.
It will not be destroyed, because it’s the best part
–fundamental, eternal–of all my race.
And my race is, in everything, faith, sorrow, love, art.