Malinche’s Blood
By: Jeanette E. Tiburcio Márquez
Poetry dedicated to Maestra G. Hortensia Rosas Pineda, author of Codex Malinche, and to Dr. Concepción Quiróz Téllez, Executive Secretary of the Juan Rueda Ortíz Academy of Letters.
N
Malinalli, princess of Veracruz,
In your roots the strength,
From your father the power
the science of stars,
exemplary governance due to its great scope.
H
More anger in your mother
Weakness and lust,
Betrayal of the Devious Belly
who clothed you with repudiation and curse.
N
Malín, small, Malinali Tenepoalti
Your father is dead, obsidian sacrifice,
Your friend, your guide, your protector
From life it is snatched,
And your author, splashes you with shame,
By selling you they enslave you,
Flower trodden on, used girl,
Mere carnal toy.
B
Your lineage has been stained,
They turn you into flattery,
They transform you, jasmine flower,
Now you’re crooked grass
Innocence and youth, little jade,
Overshadowed by sheer grief
who imposed on you an eternal mantle.
B
Silence of reflection,
Gold also splinters,
Jade also breaks
Quetzal plumage also loses its colors.
And even your mother throws you into the jaws of the jaguar.
B
Malinalli, child mother,
Gift of conquest,
Enslaved, attacked, repudiated
They take your son away from you,
They make him cross other seas
And then they’ll bring it back
But he does not know your belly.
“The eagle of prey, devouring the flower of the cactus.”
B
Child Mother, you carry the weight of history
From your fragility, only one woman, and more than a woman
Just a girl, and more than a girl…
B
Malín, Malina, Malinalli, Malintzin, Malinche, Marina…
By Iberian baptized,
Magnolia and chocolate stop and destination.
Seeker of justice, woman of faith
Transformed with the spiritual key.
H
Malinalli, your intelligence and beauty
They can’t be questioned,
Embroiderer of the new story,
You managed to capture the languages,
From princess to slave,
From slave to souvenir,
From Merchandise to Translator,
From translator to stage manager,
And to govern the vice-queen.
N
Conquered, thou hast conquered him who was master of masters,
Chief of magical beasts and brave soldiers,
Your thirty years of life have been judged for centuries
With firm severity.
Let us be careful not to make more judgments.
Claim to your name
Princess Servant.
The worst of all? Or the first of many?
New History: Of Struggle, Rapture, Pardon and Vindication.
H
Malinche’s blood, blood of forgiveness,
You shod your mother, your brother in gold
What a yoke and bondage they dictated upon you,
In a hug of integrity, you showed us
How a woman who did not judge has been judged harshly,
But his life he dedicated,
In the gallant search for a new homeland
Of freedom and forgiveness.