I decided to make a small tour of Honduras and share a couple of pictures which piqued my interests
Honduras has a mixed ancestry and would have birthed the Maya.
However, today, I would like to do something a little different. Exploring an area that I have not yet dabbled with, which is Poetry.
With a little digging, I found one famous poet who was from Honduras named Roberto Sosa and chose one translated poem of his:
This afternoon a child, not even two years old,
He’s got curls like ripples on a lake.
A pudgy little boy
with huge eyes
like a stray lamb.
He only knows four words: Mommie,
Pipanny, for Granny, and Cuba.
When he’s upset he yells papo! to protest
or to show he’s going to cry.
His name is Nestor
but at home we call our little piece of people
If it’s the police who find him
and we hope with all our hearts it won’t be
please please don’t let them hurt him.
This little boy is wearing a sailor suit
and carrying a music box.
If he does not come back, what man what woman what creature
in this house
will ever again be able, no matter how they try,
to lift their fallen wings? “