Bertha Preciado
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The Latin voice By Emilia We are already part of the stars that swell your flag We grew up in your history and your battles Our names are pronounced like picturesque birds Chavez, Perez, Diaz… We swell the crowds in the lines of work We are already citizens of a country of privileges Nobody recognizes our footprints, we remain invisible We are different. Our children do not know the reason for the color of their skin The rhythm of their hips and laughter so loud They don't know our land They didn't talk to the grandparents but they still sing our songs and they like my cooking. They were born with the inheritance of their mother's language I already know your language, but I have that hint of a Latin accent In my eyes there is nostalgia for other skies There is my guitar and its echoes. You know son I don't know who came first The English, the Chinese, the Mexicans or the Irish But we all arrived We mixed the flavors Cueca, cumbia and salsa. Whose privilege is it to say who we count? Who came up with the form to know who we are Legal or illegal We are just citizens of a foreign country We are the Latin star that makes up the flag. And a coffee with two sugars |