Cuba unveils Jose Marti statue, a gift from Trump's hometown

[Judi Lynn]

OCTOBER 20, 2017 / 5:49 PM / A DAY AGO
Cuba unveils Jose Marti statue, a gift from Trump's hometown
Sarah Marsh



HAVANA (Reuters) - Cuba unveiled a replica of a New York statue of independence hero Jose Marti on Friday, putting a gift from the hometown of U.S. President Donald Trump on public display at a time of heightened U.S.-Cuba tensions.

The equestrian statue depicts Marti moments before his death in a cavalry charge in 1895, during the fight against Spanish colonial rule.

The original, sculpted by U.S. artist Anna Hyatt, has stood for decades at the south en­trance to New York City’s Central Park, not far from the gleaming Trump Tower on Fifth Avenue.

After former U.S. President Barack Obama and Cuban President Raul Castro announced a detente in 2014, the Bronx Museum of the Arts decided to gather donations to make a copy of the sculpture as a gift for Havana.

More:
http://www.reuters.com/article/us-cuba-usa-marti/cuba-unveils-jose-marti-statue-a-gift-from-trumps-hometown-idUSKBN1CP2T7

Editorials and other articles:
https://www.democraticunderground.com/1016195050

[TexasProgresive]

1. Pete Seger's tribute to Marti +plus the words of Marti "Yo soy un hombre sincero."

Yo soy un hombre sincero
Yo soy un hombre sincero
De donde crece la palma,
Y antes de morirme quiero
Echar mis versos del alma.

Yo vengo de todas partes,
Y hacia todas partes voy:
Arte soy entre las artes,
En los montes, monte soy.

Yo sé los nombres extraños
De las yerbas y las flores,
Y de mortales engaños,
Y de sublimes dolores.

Yo he visto en la noche oscura
Llover sobre mi cabeza
Los rayos de lumbre pura
De la divina belleza.

Alas nacer vi en los hombros
De las mujeres hermosas:
Y salir de los escombros,
Volando las mariposas.

He visto vivir a un hombre
Con el puñal al costado,
Sin decir jamás el nombre
De aquella que lo ha matado.

Rápida, como un reflejo,
Dos veces vi el alma, dos:
Cuando murió el pobre viejo1,
Cuando ella me dijo adiós2.

Temblé una vez —en la reja,
A la entrada de la viña,—
Cuando la bárbara abeja
Picó en la frente a mi niña.

Gocé una vez, de tal suerte
Que gocé cual nunca:—cuando
La sentencia de mi muerte
Leyó el alcalde llorando.

Oigo un suspiro, a través
De las tierras y la mar,
Y no es un suspiro,—es
Que mi hijo va a despertar.

Si dicen que del joyero
Tome la joya mejor,
Tomo a un amigo sincero
Y pongo a un lado el amor.

Yo he visto al águila herida
Volar al azul sereno,
Y morir en su guarida
La vibora del veneno.

Yo sé bien que cuando el mundo
Cede, lívido, al descanso,
Sobre el silencio profundo
Murmura el arroyo manso.

Yo he puesto la mano osada,
De horror y júbilo yerta,
Sobre la estrella apagada
Que cayó frente a mi puerta.

Oculto en mi pecho bravo
La pena que me lo hiere:
El hijo de un pueblo esclavo
Vive por él, calla y muere.

Todo es hermoso y constante,
Todo es música y razón,
Y todo, como el diamante,
Antes que luz es carbón.

Yo sé que el necio se entierra
Con gran lujo y con gran llanto.
Y que no hay fruta en la tierra
Como la del camposanto.

Callo, y entiendo, y me quito
La pompa del rimador:
Cuelgo de un árbol marchito
Mi muceta de doctor

English translation by Manuel A. Tellechea

A Sincere Man Am I
A sincere man am I
From the land where palm trees grow,
And I want before I die
My soul's verses to bestow.

I'm a traveller to all parts,
And a newcomer to none:
I am art among the arts,
With the mountains I am one.

I know how to name and class
All the strange flowers that grow;
I know every blade of grass,
Fatal lie and sublime woe.

I have seen through dead of night
Upon my head softly fall,
Rays formed of the purest light
From beauty celestial.

I have seen wings that were surging
From beautiful women's shoulders,
And seen butterflies emerging
From the refuse heap that moulders.

I have known a man to live
With a dagger at his side,
And never once the name give
Of she by whose hand he died.

Twice, for an instant, did I
My soul's reflection espy:
Twice: when my poor father died
And when she bade me good-bye.

I trembled once, when I flung
The vineyard gate, and to my dread,
The wicked hornet had stung
My little girl on the forehead.

I rejoiced once and felt lucky
The day that my jailer came
To read the death warrant to me
That bore his tears and my name.

I hear a sigh across the earth,
I hear a sigh over the deep:
It is no sign reaching my hearth,
But my son waking from sleep.

If they say I have obtained
The pick of the jeweller's trove,
A good friend is what I've gained
And I have put aside love.

I have seen across the skies
A wounded eagle still flying;
I know the cubby where lies
The snake of its venom dying.

I know that the world is weak
And must soon fall to the ground,
Then the gentle brook will speak
Above the quiet profound.

While trembling with joy and dread,
I have touched with hand so bold
A once-bright star that fell dead
From heaven at my threshold.

On my brave heart is engraved
The sorrow hidden from all eyes:
The son of a land enslaved,
Lives for it, suffers and dies.

All is beautiful and right,
All is as music and reason;
And all, like diamonds, is light
That was coal before its season.

I know when fools are laid to rest
Honor and tears will abound,
And that of all fruits, the best
Is left to rot in holy ground.

Without a word, the pompous muse
I've set aside, and understood:
From a withered branch, I choose
To hang my doctoral hood.

[Judi Lynn]

2. Thank you for the translation of the entire poem. Wonderful.

Great hearing that song by Pete Seeger. He introduced something most U.S. Americans had never heard before.

It's hilarious learning that the Miami Cuban "exiles" try to claim José Martí as their own, considering he spent his life fighting people like them. They plunge right ahead, however, naming schools, etc. for him, knowing that most people in this country know nothing about him and his actual moral position in life, and his dislike for power mad vampires and thieves.

[TexasProgresive]

3. I was introduced to Jose Marti by a historical novel.

Mingo Dabney by James Street was centered around the Cuban fight to free herself from Spain. The main historical characters in the novel were Marti and General Antonio Maceo. While not historically accurate it was the 1st I every knew of the long history of Cuba to shake off Spanish rule and the constant threat of being dominated by the U.S.A. We certainly didn't cover this in history class.