Translated to English by Richard Gabela on April 10, 2024, from the original work “Patria Enferma” by Fanny Caicedo (1932–2001) of Yaguachi, Ecuador. I have translated the title of the poem as “Sick Motherland.”
Sick Motherland
Motherland, afflicted and sick, Motherland,
lashed by anguish,
the children you raised in your womb
cradled among poppies and violets
have torn your entrails apart.
I see your hair waving,
blonde as grain spikes and the sun’s glow,
your wounded head
cannot find solace on any chest:
all have betrayed you.
Your jasmine heart lies broken,
your people shed glass tears
that trace down your cheeks,
as they buy the very air they breathe
and the poverty they sip on,
barely covering four percent of their hunger,
of the misery not televised.
The singing bird pays taxes
for its perch on the branch,
it pays taxes by spreading joy to mankind
and by singing a hymn to its Creator.
The beautiful rose pays,
cutting the garden’s perfume
as it journeys abroad,
only to return to you, oh beloved Motherland,
with its fragrance,
trapped in a tiny vial,
now sold for dollars.
Oh Motherland, in anguish!
May rifles redeem you,
may gunpowder transform into medicine,
and Molotov cocktails into bread and meat,
for wind-made, sugarless nougats
cannot nourish our children.
Motherland, ailing yet august, Motherland,
loved by Bolívar and Sucre,
you suffer from injustice,
broken by your pauperized state
and we must clothe our children
with scraps of sunlight and moonlight.
In school,
the teacher also pays his taxes
from the salary he receives in bits,
never resting the chalk
as he molds young minds
into scientific molecules.
The head of the household pays taxes,
for his child’s education
is mandatory but not free,
lacking even a pencil for the child,
with desks old and narrow.
The farmer pays
for lost harvests,
for the frost’s descent
upon his crops,
for the flood
that swept away his domain
for the days he must endure!
The pineapple pays for its journey to Italy,
the banana
for its formal attire,
the citizen
for the right to freedom,
while the sea weeps
azure pearls
for the tuna, monopolized
by foreign hands,
that wrings out your honor
and clothe you in laurel-less rags.
Motherland, sick Motherland,
the stranger pays
with crumbs
for the wealth
you provide in abundant meals.
Motherland, Motherland,
I see your eyes of black gold
shedding tears,
flowing through pipelines,
for the oil
born from your depths
is not yours.
Beloved Motherland,
it too belongs to the foreigner,
who spits on your pearly forehead
as an insulting gift,
as a cruel royalty,
for you are sold
to your very soul!
Your own children sold you;
they trampled your dignity!
Ecuador, emerging nation,
in the midst of the twentieth century—
there is no brightness in your days;
your people cry out in hunger!
Motherland! Motherland in distress,
suffering from agony
and the roar of looming despair,
may you see a brighter dawn!
February 1972
On the occasion of the of the downfall of the ill-fated dictatorship of Dr. Velasco Ibarra and the assumption of power by military General Guillermo Rodríguez Lara.
Note from translator: The decision to translate Fanny Caicedo’s poem, “Sick Motherland,” stems from its poignant portrayal of Ecuador’s socio-political landscape during a tumultuous period in the country’s history. Written by an Ecuadorian poet and teaching professor, Emma Fanny Caicedo Mier, also known as Fanny Caicedo, the poem captures the collective anguish and suffering experienced by the people of Ecuador amidst political upheaval and economic hardship. The poem’s relevance lies in its timeless themes of injustice, poverty, and resilience, which resonate not only with Ecuadorians but with people facing similar challenges worldwide. It aims to preserve and share the powerful message articulated by Fanny Caicedo, offering insight into the struggles and aspirations of a nation striving for a brighter future. By bringing this work to a wider audience, we honor the author’s contribution to Ecuadorian literature and shed light on the enduring impact of her words.
Original Spanish Version
Patria Enferma
Patria, dolorida y enferma, Patria
azotada por angustias,
los hijos que criaste en tu vientre
acunados de amapolas y violetas
desgarraron tus entrañas.
Miro flamear tu cabellera
rubia de espigas y de sol,
tu cabeza herida
no puede reclinarse en ningún pecho:
te han traicionado todos.
Tu corazón de jazmines está roto,
tu pueblo llora hilos de cristal
que acarician tus mejillas
porque compra el aire que respira
y la pobreza que se toma a sorbos,
paga el cuatro por ciento de su hambre,
de la miseria que no está televisada.
Paga impuestos el pájaro que trina
porque tiene escenario en la enramada,
paga impuestos porque alegra al hombre
y al Dios que lo creó le canta un himno.
Paga la bella rosa
cortando el perfume del jardín
porque tiene que viajar al extranjero
y regresar a ti, oh Patria amada
en esencia de aroma,
envuelta en minúsculo cristal
que deberá pagarse en dólar.
¡Oh Patria que estas agonízate!
Ojalá los fusiles te rediman,
que la pólvora se convierta en medicina
y las bombas molotov en pan y carne
porque no podemos alimentar a nuestros hijos
con turrones de viento sin azúcar.
Patria, dolorida y augusta, Patria,
la que amó Bolívar y amó Sucre
estás enferma de injusticia,
destruida por tu condición paupérrima
y tenemos que vestir a nuestros niños
con remiendos de sol y luz de luna.
En la escuela,
también paga el maestro sus impuestos
del salario que recibe por retazos
porque no deja que la tiza este dormida
y transforma al párvulo
en molécula de ciencia.
Paga impuestos el padre de familia
porque la educación de su hijo
es obligada y no gratuita
porque no tiene lápiz para el niño
el pupitre está viejo y estrecho.
Paga el agricultor
por las cosechas que ha perdido
por la escarcha que ha caído
en sus sembrados
por la inundación
que se llevo su predio
por los días que tiene que vivir!
Paga la piña porque viaja a Italia
el banano
por el frac con que se viste,
el ciudadano
por el derecho de ser libre,
mientras llora el mar
perlas azules
porque el atún monopolizó
mano extranjera
que estruja tu honor
y te viste de harapos sin laureles.
Patria, Patria enferma,
Paga el extraño
con migajas
por la riqueza
que le das en viandas.
Patria, Patria
miro como lloran tus ojos
de oro negro, lágrimas empozadas
vertiendo por oleoductos
porque el petróleo
que se engendró en tu vientre
no es tuyo.
Patria amada,
es también del extranjero
que escupe tu frente nacarada
como obsequio insultante,
como cruel regalía,
porque estas vendida
hasta el alma!
Tus hijos te vendieron
pisaron tu hidalguía!
Ecuador, país en desarrollo,
en pleno siglo veinte
no hay luz para tus días
tu pueblo gime de hambre!
Patria! ¡Patria agonizante
enferma por angustias
y miseria que ruge amenazante
Ojalá que tengas un mejor amanecer!
Febrero de 1972
Con motivo de la caída de la fatídica dictadura del Dr. Velasco Ibarra y la toma del poder por el militar General Guillermo Rodríguez Lara.