SONG TO YIN

SONG TO YIN

Woman,
you who gestates life.
So much strength and courage
wrapped in that inevitable fragility,
in that sensuous defenselessness.
Woman,
who gives birth
to The Universe every day.
Woman,
who pays
the horrific price
of the life.
You pay for the climate changes,
for the capital sins
or those who never has listened
a heart’s beating,
the infinite cosmos’ breathing,
nor ever has discerned creation’s emotion…
Woman,
you are the world
surrounded by colors,
vitality, tenderness,
laugh and fantasies…
Because despite
the gray sense,
despite darkness,
shortage of light
and oxygen,
like a plant,
you strive
to get photosynthesis,
health and vitality,
you strive
to radiate beauty,
to air hope
and flourish life.
Woman,
you’re all
in your extent;
in your infinity
you shelter love and reason,
and confidence lives in your look.
Woman,
the world isn’t fair
(it never has been),
to you and for those
innocent creatures,
sincere and tender,
those animals are.
This world is ruled
by powers, not by ideals.
I think of my mother,
and I think in life.
I think in the infinity
of love, self-denial and sacrifice
of any female giving birth,
nourishing and protecting her breed,
and I think in love and tenderness…
that can’t be paid,
can’t be rewarded,
and in many few times is acknowledged…
You’re, woman,
surrounded by butterflies,
by roses, rainbows,
wings, sun and wind,
trees, sea and feelings.
You’re, woman,
nature, life, stars,
sun and firmament…
You fight the war and the hungry,
violence and injustice
from your garden of flowers;
you water with your sweet tears
the ocean of indifference,
and you wash the perversions
of the economics, capital and interests,
with your pain, your sweat and your anguish…
You’re life
and you give life.
You create energy
based on love.
I know that you’re light
on despite of sadness
and confusion
that overwhelms you.
And, on despite of illness and death,
you revive, grow and flourish
in your dehiscent truth,
every springtime,
in every hope,
in every dream,
in every life
that gestates
and y every illusion
that reborns
and shouts to be happy;
in despite of crime,
hate,
passions,
chaos
and avarice.
Woman,
you’re the peace
that makes fresher
the Universe.
You’re the smile
that softens
bitterness;
the caress
that heals wounds
and the warmth
that fright away horrors.
You’re that selfless cactus
that flourishes alone in the desert…
Universal uterus
breeder of love,
the creator of the dreams,
laugh and sweetness.
You aren’t able to save those
that are needing more
but you can with your tenderness
change the mentality
of the Planet, may be…
You cause butterfly effect;
a tear of yours
makes the World to shudder…
and the waves of light and heath
that rise from your hearth
surround the ionosphere
with a warm aura of tenderness.
Woman,
you’re boundless
and perfect;
you’ll go out to the air,
to the light,
flying as a hummingbird
in the butterflies’ wings
and colors…
You’ll be reborn
and the World
will be reborn with you
in that truth,
intimate and vast
of your hope.
Woman, you are The Life.

María Luisa Landman R.
English version by Jorge Prat, Chile.