My Beloved World

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My Beloved World Page 35

by Sonia Sotomayor


  To Puerto Rico (I Return)

  by José Gautier Benítez

  Translated by Lyn Di Iorio

  Por fin, corazón, por fin,

  alienta con la esperanza,

  que entre nubes de carmín

  del horizonte al confín,

  ya la tierra a ver se alcanza.

  Luce la aurora en Oriente

  rompiendo pardas neblinas,

  y la luz, como un torrente,

  se tiende por la ancha frente

  de verdísimas colinas.

  Ya se va diafanizando

  de la mar la espesa bruma;

  el buque sigue avanzando,

  y va la tierra brotando

  como Venus de la espuma.

  Y allá sobre el fondo oscuro

  que sus montañas le dan,

  bajo un cielo hermoso y puro,

  cerrada en su blanco muro,

  mi bellísimo San Juan.

  Y aunque esa ciudad amada,

  mis afecciones encierra,

  con el alma entusiasmada,

  yo no me acuerdo de nada

  sino de ver esa tierra.

  Perdonadle al desterrado

  ese dulce frenesí:

  vuelvo a mi mundo adorado,

  y yo estoy enamorado

  de la tierra en que nací.

  Para poder conocerla

  es preciso compararla,

  de lejos en sueños verla;

  y para saber quererla

  es necesario dejarla.

  ¡Oh! no envidie tu belleza,

  de otra inmensa población

  el poder y la riqueza,

  que allí vive la cabeza,

  y aquí vive el corazón.

  Y si vivir es sentir,

  y si vivir es pensar,

  yo puedo, patria, decir

  que no he dejado vivir

  al dejarte de mirar.

  Que aunque es templado y suave

  no vive, no, en el ambiente

  el pez de las ondas nave,

  ni entre las ondas el ave,

  ni yo, de mi patria ausente.

  ¡Patria! jardín del mar,

  la perla de las Antillas,

  ¡tengo ganas de llorar!

  ¡tengo ganas de besar

  la arena de tus orillas!

  Si entre lágrimas te canto,

  patria mía, no te asombres,

  porque es de amor ese llanto,

  y ese amor es el más santo

  de los amores del hombre.

  Tuya es la vida que aliento,

  es tuya mi inspiración,

  es tuyo mi pensamiento,

  tuyo todo sentimiento

  que brote en mi corazón.

  Que haya en ti vida primero,

  cuanto ha de fijarse en mí,

  y en todo cuanto venero,

  y en todo cuanto yo quiero,

  hay algo, patria, de ti.

  No, nada importa la suerte

  si tengo que abandonarte,

  que yo sólo aspiro a verte,

  a la dicha de quererte

  y a la gloria de cantarte.

  At last, my heart, at last,

  come alive with hope,

  for among crimson clouds

  from the horizon end to end,

  I can already see land.

  Dawn rises in the East

  shattering dark mists,

  and a torrent of light pours

  on the wide swath

  of the deep green hills.

  The veil of thick fog lifts

  off the sea;

  the ship advances,

  and the land begins to rise

  like Venus from the foam.

  And there on the dark ground

  of its mountains,

  against a pure and lovely sky,

  enclosed by a white wall,

  my beautiful San Juan.

  And as a cherished city,

  it holds all my loves,

  and with an enthusiastic soul,

  I don’t recall

  anything except seeing my homeland.

  Forgive the exile

  this sweet frenzy:

  I return to my beloved world,

  in love with the land where I was born.

  To know her

  you must compare her,

  see her distant in your dreams;

  and to love her

  you need to leave her.

  Ah! Do not let your beauty envy

  the wealth and power

  of another great nation,

  because there is where the head lives,

  and here is where the heart lives.

  And if to live is to feel,

  and if to live is to think,

  homeland, I can say

  that I have not known how to live

  since I stopped looking at you.

  Though its climate be temperate and soft,

  the seafaring fish cannot live in the air,

  nor in waves can a bird soar,

  nor can I thrive

  away from my homeland.

  Homeland! Garden of the sea,

  pearl of the Antilles,

  I feel like crying!

  I feel like kissing

  the sands of your shores!

  If between tears I sing to you,

  my land, do not be astonished,

  because love is in these tears,

  and this love is the holiest

  of the loves of man.

  Yours is the life that I breathe,

  my inspiration is yours,

  yours is my thought,

  yours all feeling

  that blooms in my heart.

  My life flows from yours,

  and in everything I deem worthy,

  and in everything I love,

  there is something, my homeland,

  that belongs to you.

  No, luck doesn’t matter

  if I have to leave you,

  for I aspire only to see you,

  to the good fortune of loving you

  and the glory of singing to you.

  A Note About the Author

  Sonia Sotomayor graduated summa cum laude from Princeton in 1976, and from Yale Law School in 1979. She worked as an assistant district attorney in New York County and then at the law firm of Pavia & Harcourt. From 1992 to 1998, she served as a judge of the U.S. District Court, Southern District of New York, and from 1998 to 2009 on the United States Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit. In May 2009, President Barack Obama nominated her as an Associate Justice of the Supreme Court; she assumed this role on August 8, 2009.

  For more information, please visit www.aaknopf.com

  Me, age one, between Papi and Mami

  First birthday. The photo was given to Abuelita as a memento years later when it was inscribed “For Grandma, from your granddaughter who never forgets you. Sonia.”

  Celina (right) with her “adoptive” family by marriage: Mercedes (center) and her daughter Gloria (left)

  Abuelita and her second husband, Gallego, in Puerto Rico

  Juli as a young man, soon after first arriving in New York

  Celina in the Women’s Army Corps, age nineteen

  “To my beloved grandmother, I dedicate this humble remembrance in proof of my love for you. Your little grandson, Juan Luis Sotomayor” (translated from the Spanish inscription)

  Juan Luis (Juli) Sotomayor, age two, in a photograph he gave to Celina early in their courtship, with an earlier dedication to his grandmother written on the back

  With Junior on his first birthday: Papi’s handwritten notes on the backing paper were discovered for the first time fifty-four years later while writing this book.

  10 p.m.

  October 29, 1958

  Tomorrow is the birthday of my beloved Julyto, alias “Little Bull.” May God give him many years of life and the same for my adored Sonia, the light of my eyes. To my beloved wife Celina, “Cucarocha,” “Michaela,” “Barcelo,�
� and to all of my family, and that of my wife, may God bless you all. “July,” Juan Luis Sotomayor (translated from Spanish inscription)

  Juli’s playful spirit would later recede.

  Juli at the radiator factory

  I preferred boys’ toys, like guns, to dolls. With Papi, Junior, and Mami, beside the Christmas tree decorated by Papi.

  Birthday girl with (left to right) my godmother, Carmin; Mom, Celina; and maternal aunt Aurora

  Celina (center) was the Jackie O of Bronxdale, but Carmen (right) was a beauty, too. Abuelita is second from top left, flanked by her sisters. Gloria is behind Carmen, and in the front-row peanut gallery, from left, are Junior, Nelson, me, Eddie, and Miriam.

  With cousins: (from left) Eddie, Miriam, Nelson, and Lillian. Miriam and I often dressed like twins.

  Trying very hard at age four to match Mami’s glamour, both of us dressed in new hats for Easter

  ¡Vámonos de parranda!: Abuelita loved a picnic.

  At Blessed Sacrament, I first discovered love of learning and a lust for gold stars.

  Senior year at Cardinal Spellman High School

  In the Princeton yearbook, class of 1976

  The Bronx comes to Princeton for the weekend: Kevin on the left, standing next to me; Mami on far right, followed by Ken Moy and Junior. Kneeling, front left, is Felice Shea.

  Beside one of the bronze tigers outside Nassau Hall

  In the kitchen with Titi Aurora and Mami on a visit home from Yale

  High school sweethearts just after the wedding in the Lady Chapel at St. Patrick’s Cathedral. Mami’s friend Elisa helped design the dress, and Kevin rented the tuxedo.

  I whip up some homemade Chinese food for the gang at Yale.

  The wedding shower, with maid of honor Marguerite Butler (right) and college roommate Mary Cadette (left)

  With Kevin in the Rocky Mountains on our road trip out West, second summer at Yale

  Discovering the grandeur of America’s wide open spaces for the first time, while struggling to figure out a career plan

  Visiting with Dolores Chavez at her parents’ home in Albuquerque. She and her father did a beautiful rendition of the ballad “Cucurrucucú Paloma.”

  Sonia Sotomayor, Assistant District Attorney, representing the people of the County of New York

  … and the badge to prove it

  Partners and associates of Pavia & Harcourt gathered to celebrate a wedding of one of their own soon after I became a judge. David Botwinik is at bottom left and George Pavia is beside him.

  With Alessandro Saracino-Fendi, the client who became like a brother

  The annual courthouse follies: After much rehearsal, I make a serviceable singing hobo alongside U.S. District Court Judges Charles S. Haight, Jr., and Jed S. Rakoff

  With Robert M. Morgenthau (“The Boss”) on the day I was sworn in

  Three generations of Sotomayor women: my niece Kiley, Mami, and me

  My Yale mentor, now Circuit Court Judge, José Cabranes administered the oath of office at my induction to the U.S. District Court for the Southern District of New York.

  The bride Celina and her groom Omar, with Junior, now Dr. Sotomayor. As my first official act, I performed the marriage of the couple on the night of my induction to the Second Circuit Court of Appeals.

  At the White House: Mami, Kiley, Conner, and Corey as President Obama announces my nomination to the Supreme Court

  Justices of the Supreme Court of the United States are required to take multiple oaths. Here I take the Judicial Oath, administered by Chief Justice Roberts in the Justices’ conference room, with my mother holding the Bible and Junior looking on.

 

 

 


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