2.4–Spotlight on Non-English U.S. Poetry in Translation

R. Paul Cooper

Now that we’ve discussed the craft of poetry, let’s turn our attention toward the linguistic and cultural diversity of the southwestern and southeastern United States. Though we often think of the United States as a monolingual place, this has not always been the case. Especially during the 19th century, families and cultures used their languages of origin at home and in the community. It certainly was not simply a case of speaking their heritage language at home and English at work (though that often was the case). Where commerce and business were conducted in heritage languages, there formed large literary communities that published magazines, journals, and newspapers read and enjoyed by many. We highlight this non-English poetry of the United States in this section to showcase often overlooked chapters of U.S. literary history.

This focus will have a few effects. It will enrich your knowledge of U.S. poetry, develop your ability to analyze poems through historical and biographical context, and provide you with the tools to start thinking about poetry in translation. Don’t worry! You don’t need to speak any other languages. If you do, that will certainly enrich your experience, but each translation below can be read as poetry, an artistic creation between translator and author. The translations attempt to maintain the meters and rhythms of the originals, even when the translations may not be exact, which is another way of saying that, when translating poetry, sometimes sound means more than sense. Except on such occasions where that proves to be the case, each translation below is as faithful as possible to the sense of the original.

By now you’re surely asking, what languages? What cultures? Well, all three languages are endemic to Texas and the surrounding areas: French, Spanish, and Kouri-Vini. German is another language endemic to Texas, and you can find pockets of German speakers throughout the state, but German is beyond this translator’s abilities, unfortunately. If you know German, and your teacher allows it, maybe you could translate some Texas German poetry for an assignment, or heck, maybe just for fun.

If we could emphasize one thing before we begin the poems, it’s this. These are not foreign languages. They are heritage languages of the United States. Because of that, even if you do not speak the languages these poems are written in, the English translations will still speak to you.

Spanish

We could fill volumes with the Spanish poetry of the United States. Even today, U.S. poetry is being produced in Spanish from coast-to-coast. U.S. poets writing in languages other than English isn’t some new fad. If anything, it’s a return to tradition. There were once-thriving print traditions in all the former Mexican territories annexed by the U.S., print traditions built around communities of readers, writers, and publishers. In fact, certain Spanish forms have also retained popularity in the U.S., including but not limited to traditional Mexican ballads, called corridos, and the décima, a ten-line form popular throughout Spain but maintained in the U.S. by the Canary Islanders of Southeast Louisiana. The contributions of Spanish-speakers to U.S. Arts and letters cannot be underestimated, even though we offer only a small glimpse of that linguistic and literary diversity.

Vicente J. Bernal (1888–1915)

The poems below originate from a 1916 volume titled Las Primicias, or The First Fruits. Bernal lived in New Mexico when it was still part of Mexico, but when the United States annexed the former parts of Mexico, he suddenly found himself a citizen of the United States. Written partly in English and partly in Spanish, Las Primicias offers a portrait of a man attempting to see his home country anew, as if he were a new citizen of a new land.

Dios Bendiga a R——————” (1916)

Dios Bendiga a R——————” (1916)[1]

Las montañas y riachuelos

Los cañones y pinares

Las estrellas y los cielos,

Los desiertos y los mares,

Y áureo sol de luz bendita,

Todos hoy conmigo digan

Dios bendiga a R—————!

“God Bless ———————[2]

Mountains and arroyos,

Canyons and pine groves,

The stars and heavens,

The deserts and seas,

Sunlight, blessed and golden,

All today say it with me,

God bless ————————!

“God Bless ———————” Questions and Activities for Further Analysis

  1. This poem is not written in a fixed form, but the content of the poem indicates a certain type of poem. What is the attitude of the speaker toward the subject matter? What sort of poem might take such a stance towards its subject?
  2. What images are employed in this poem? Taken as a whole, what emotional or mental states does this imagery evoke? Why?
  3. Consider the translator’s choice of the word arroyo, itself a Spanish word, but one assimilated into English vernacular. Why translate riachuelo as arroyo, and not simply the more literally accurate “little river”?
  4. In the final line, the actual place name has been removed. Why do you think that is the case? When answering why, consider not just the poem, but the historical context of the poem—how would place names be erased by the U.S. acquisition of the formerly Mexican territory?
  5. Consider the historical context. How is this poem also a dirge or lament? In what ways does it express, in addition to joy and admiration, grief and loss? Does the author observe a new country, or does he pine for the old?

 

“America” (1916)

“America” (1916)[3]

O patria, sólo en tí

La libertad yo ví

Y doy loor;

El peregrino halló

Consuelo que buscó

Montañas que preció;

¡O dad loor!

 

Mi padre, con lealtad

Al Dios de libertad,

Supo a abar; [sic][4]

Mi tierra al derredor

Circunda con tu amor

Sé Dios mi protector

¡De todo azar!

“America”[5]

O, nation, in you I see

The sole path to liberty,

And I give praise;

The pilgrims searched and found

Succor on your sacred ground,

All ’round with mountains crowned;

O, give it praise!

 

My father, with fealty

To the God of liberty,

Counted his luck.

My land all around

By your love is bound,

Be my protector, O, God,

Font of all luck!

“America” Questions and Activities for Further Analysis

  1. What words are repeated throughout this poem? What patterns of meaning do you find in the repeated words?
  2. Why is Bernal’s glowing allusion to pilgrims an ironic statement?
  3. The two stanzas above put the main characters of the poem in contrast with each other. Who are the main characters in stanza 1? Who are the main characters in stanza 2? Why has Bernal created this equivalence between the two sets of characters?

French

Many of you probably associate French in America with Louisiana, but southeast Texas and Houston also exhibit a strong French heritage. Often portrayed as illiterate speakers of “redneck” French, the truth was quite the opposite. There existed robust literary societies in 19th century Louisiana, with outlets such as L’Abeille de la Nouvelle Orléans and L’Athénée Louisianais.[6] French Louisiana also boasts the first anthology of poetry by Black Americans and America’s first daily black newspaper, Les Cenelles in 1845 and The New Orleans Tribune in 1864 respectively. Though nearly all of the historical French publications from the 19th century disappeared as English supplanted French, there still exist outlets, such as Résonance at the University of Maine and Feux Follets[7] at the University of Lafayette, that publish contemporary authors writing in French. While you may have never encountered Louisiana French speakers, the language is experiencing an ongoing renaissance.

Hippolyte Castra (Unknown)

Louisiana Creoles are a multi-ethnic and multi-racial group of people who share a common culture based on the Catholic liturgical year, who can trace their ancestry to Louisiana prior to its sale to the U.S. in 1803, and who share a linguistic connection to French and Kouri-Vini. Many Creoles were free people of color fostered on the ideas of the French Revolution, on liberty, fraternity, and equality, a quality evident throughout their poetry. Below you will find Hippolyte Castra’s “The Campaign of 1814–1815,” a quintessential example of the sort of political poetry often produced by free Creoles of color. Hippolyte Castra was a pen name, and though the poem was published in 1911 by Rodolphe Desdunes, also a Creole of color, Desdunes claims it was written before 1840. In this poem you will find the story of a Creole of color who fought for the U.S. during the war of 1812 only to find himself hated afterward for the color of his skin.

“La campagne de 1814–1815” (1911)
“La campagne de 1814–1815” (1911)

Je me souviens qu’un jour, dans mon enfance,
Un beau matin, ma mère, en soupirant,
Me dit: « Enfant, emblème d’innocence,
« Tu ne sais pas l’avenir qui t’attend.
« Sous ce beau ciel tu crois voir ta patrie:
« De ton erreur, reviens, mon tendre fils,
« Et crois surtout en ta mère chérie…
« Ici, tu n’es qu’un objet de mépris.»

Dix ans après, sur nos vastes frontières,
On entendit le canon des Anglais,
« Nous sommes tous nés du sang Louisianais ».
A ces doux mots, en embrassant ma mère,
Je vous suivis en répétant vos cris,
Ne pensant pas, dans ma course guerrière,
Que je n’étais qu’un objet de mépris.

En arrivant sur le champ de bataille,
Je combattis comme un brave guerrier:
Ni les boulets non plus que la mitraille,
Jamais, jamais, ne purent m’effrayer.
Je me battis avec cette vaillance
Dans l’espoir seul de servir mon pays,
Ne pensant pas que pour ma récompense,
Je ne serais qu’un objet de mépris.

Après avoir remporté la victoire,
Dans ce terrible et glorieux combat,
Vous m’avez tous, dans vos coups, fait boire,
En m’appelant un valeureux soldat.
Moi, sans regret, avec un cœur sincère,
Hélas! j’ai bu, vous croyant mes amis;
Ne pensant pas, dans ma joie éphémère,
Que je n’étais qu’un objet de mépris.

Mais aujourd’hui tristement je soupire,
Car j’aperçois en vous un changement;
Je ne vois plus ce gracieux sourire
Qui se montrait, autrefois, si souvent,
Avec éclat sur vos mielleuses bouches.
Devenez-vous pour moi des ennemis?…
Ah! je le vois dans vos regards farouches:
Je ne suis plus qu’un objet de mépris.

“The Campaign of 1814–1815”

I recall a day from my infancy,
some fine morning when my mother warned me
with a sigh: “Child, emblem of innocence,
you don’t know what destiny awaits you.
Beneath these stars your country you perceive:
From that error, return, my tender son,
above all else, in your mother believe—
Here, you’re nothing but an object of scorn.”

Ten years later, across our vast borders,
we heard the thunder of English cannon.
“We’re all born of blood Louisianan!”
With those sweet words, I kissed my mother,
followed the others, repeated their cries.
as if I were an object to despise.

When we arrived on the field of battle,
I fought the foe, a brave volunteer:
Neither the cannon nor the musket-ball,
Neither could cause me to quiver with fear.
I fought, I fought, ever so valiantly,
borne by patriotic gallantry—
I couldn’t have known that for recompense,
I’d become an object of contempt.

After we had taken victory
from combat full of terror and glory,
y’all raised shots to me, clapped my back loud,
told me I’d gone and made the infantry proud.
Me, no regrets, my heart full sincere,
Alas! Thinking y’all my friends, I took part ;
I never thought my joy would soon depart,
that I’d be merely the object of sneers.

These days, I look around with a sad sigh,
because I see some profound changes;
I’m no longer met by the gracious smiles
that shined, so often, from your faces,
not honeyed lips nor refined graces.
How’d I become your bitter enemy?
Ah! I see something in your feral eyes:
Me, the object of your enmity.

“The Campaign of 1814–1815” Questions and Activities for Further Analysis

  1. Most of the stanzas in the poem have a set line number except for one. Identify that stanza; why did the author choose to include one less line in this stanza?
  2. At the end of each stanza, the author repeats a refrain that portrays him as an ‘object of scorn.’ Given the historical context, why do you think the speaker chooses the word ‘object’?
  3. Where does the turn or shift in tone happen in this poem? Describe in your own words the shift in tone. Why does it happen at this particular point?
  4. Consider the final stanza. How does scorn and hate affect those who give the scorn and hate? What words or phrases support your interpretation?
  5. What does this poem teach the reader about the military sacrifices that people of color have made during war-time for the United States?

 

Léona Queyrouze (1861–1938)

Léona Queyrouze was a French Creole woman who wrote under the pen name Constant Beauvais. In New Orleans she was known for hosting traditional ‘salons’ that were attended by literary luminaries of the time such as Alfred Merciér, Adrien Roquette (included here in the section on Kouri-Vini), and Lafcadio Hearne. Her poetry is different from many of her contemporaries, a direct influence of her Latin, Catholic roots; while contemporaries like Kate Chopin (see Chapter 3 and Chapter 4) brought Anglo-Protestant perspectives to the Creole world, Queyrouze worked from within it, here reflected in the symbolic romance of her poetry.

“Sonnet” (1886)

“Sonnet” (1886)[8]

Sous son premier baiser le printemps qui s’éveille
Fait du sien de l’hiver s’épanouir la fleur ;
Ranimant la Nature à sa lèvre vermeille,
Il lui rend de nouveau la vie et la chaleur.

Dans sa coupe embaumée il distille à l’abeille
un parfum qu’elle change en divine liqueur ;
Versant l’ardente sève aux doux fruits de la treille
Qui fait veiller l’amour et dormir la douleur.

Sous ton beau front blanchi l’éternelle jeunesse
Palpite, et le printemps et toute sa tendresse,
Et l’art te garde encore ses plus chaudes lueurs.

Toujours t’aime la muse, amoureuse immortelle ;
Quand s’incline ton front, ce n’est pas sous les pleurs,
Mais c’est pour écouter cette amante fidèle.

“Sonnet”[9]

Beneath his first kiss, the waking spring moves
winter to make room for flowering blooms;
With his ruddy lips, Nature he revives,
breathes new life, stirs temperatures to rise.

In potpourri cups he distills a perfume
that bees transmute into divine liqueur;
fierce sap pours from ripe fruit on the trellis,
fruits that wake love and from pain dispel us.

Beneath your pristine brow pulsates eternal
youth, and all the tenderness of vernal days
yet hold you in the art of warm, gleaming rays.

The muse ever favors you, lover immortal;
you turn to face me, not with teary gaze,
but to hear this faithful lover’s praise.

“Sonnet” Questions and Activities for Further Analysis

  1. What type of sonnet is this? How do you know?
  2. This poem alludes to the ‘muse.’ What is a muse? Why is it important to this poem?
  3. What season is personified here? If that season were a person, what sort of person would it be?
  4. The imagery of this poem is meant to symbolize complex emotional states. Identify at least two images in their entirety; what emotional states are conveyed by these images and why?
  5. Léona Queyrouse originally wrote this poem in response to another sonnet by Anatole Cousin. Write your own sonnet in response.

 

“Allégorie—Pensée d’un Créole” (1891)

“Allégorie—Pensée d’un Créole” (1891)[10]

Du vieux tronc desséché les rameaux sont détruits.
Ils n’avaient plus ni fleurs, ni frondaison, ni fruits.
Autour du flanc stérile une liane avide
Enroule ses anneaux, et par cent lèvres vide
La source de sa vie. Et déjà sur son front,
L’arbre spectre a senti, comme un vivant affront
Éclore et resplendir une fleur étrangère
Qui se balance aux vents, parasite et légère.

“Allegory—Reflection of a Creole”[11]

The branches of the dried-up old trunk are blasted.
No more fruits, flowers, or foliage, it’s had it.
Around the lifeless trunk grow vines that choke
its crown, one hundred lips that sap and suck
its life-source down. Then the ghost tree felt,
forming on its brow, like a living affront,
the hatch and blossom of a strange flower
that swayed in the wind, parasitic and fragile.

“Allegory—Reflection of a Creole” Questions and Activities for Further Analysis

  1. Identify an internal rhyme at work in this poem. How does the internal rhyme advance the themes or ideas of the line it is in?
  2. Identify the alliterations and consonances at work in this poem. What sounds are emphasized and repeated? Why?
  3. Consider the image of the tree. What complex emotions are invoked by this image? What words or phrases can you point to that support your interpretation?
  4. The poem sports a turn, or a shift in tone. In what line does the turn happen? What is the tone before it? What is the tone after it? Why has this shift occurred?
  5. This poem is an insider allegory for the decline of Creole culture after the Sale of Louisiana to America in 1803. Following the allegorical reading, what has happened to Creole culture? What would be the strange and parasitic flower that has formed on the tree? Why is it parasitic?

 

Kouri-Vini

Though it is well documented that Kouri-Vini began in the mouths of enslaved peoples,[12] Kouri-Vini was spoken by Europeans, Africans, and Native Americans (and their multi-racial children). This language employs vocabulary primarily from French, but also from English, Wolof (and other African languages), Wyandot, Choctaw, and Quechua sources. Much of the syntax is drawn from English, yet the grammar employs constructions from Wolof and Choctaw. Today, there are communities of Kouri-Vini speakers from Houston, TX, to Mobile, AL, but there are also communities of speakers as widespread as Chicago, IL and Los Angeles, CA. With fewer than 15K native speakers, Kouri-Vini is considered an endangered language, and this spotlight section contributes to its protection and conservation.

Adrien Roquette, Chahta-Ima (1813–1887)

Adrien Roquette was a poet-priest who lived the last few decades of his life among the Choctaw, where he was known as Chahta-Ima, meaning “Like a Choctaw.” Though French trappers, known as coureurs de bois, and French Jesuit priests often lived among Native Americans and adopted their way of life, they should not be romanticized; even though Roquette was accepted by the Choctaw, he was a missionary, an ideological colonizer. Despite this, the poem below provides a unique look at the rhythms and onomatopoeias of Kouri-Vini as spoken within Choctaw communities. Though those communities would have primarily spoken Choctaw, Kouri-Vini served as a lingua franca across French Louisiana, a concept with which Native Americans were familiar, since the Native Tribes of the southeast U.S. spoke Mobilien as a lingua franca for matters of commerce.

“Mokeur Shanteur” (1878)

“Mokeur Shanteur” (1878)[13]

Kashé dan la barb espagnol,
Ki sa ki a pé shanté là ?
Mo connin, sé pa rossignol.
Kouté so la voi: ki silà ?

Ah! silà a pé shanté,
Silà ki gagnin il la voi,
Ké tou moune sré kapab kouté,
Juska yé mouri fin dan boi, —

Silà, sé zozo ki sorsié !
Kouté, kouté so la muzik ;
Kouté-li, kouté-li ; l’a pé
Di nou : kiliklik, kililklik.

Kouté, kouté dou sorsié là ;
Kouté biyen sa la pé di nou ;
L’a pé di nou : wawa, wawa ;
L’a pé di nou : hibou, hibou.

Kouté pandan la nuite trankil,
Kouté ton sa l’a pé di nou ;
Kouté ; l’a pé di : whip-pour-wil ;
L’a pé pélé, kolin-foirou.

Kouté — li shangé so la voi ;
L’a pé shanté kom ton zozo ;
Kom ton sa ki shanté dan boi ;
Kom narb, kom divan, kom dolo.

Li, sé gran mèt ; li, sé sorsié :
Tou silà-ye ki tandé li,
Yé resté là ; yé tou blié ;
Yé sré kouté juska mouri !

Gar-li dan siel a pé valsé ;
So la voi a pé rane li sou ;
Li plu konnin sa l’a pé fé ;
Li plu konnin aryin ; li fou !

Ah ! kokeur, ah ! mokeur shanteur
Ah ! Ah ! to gagnin giab dan kor !
To gagnin tro l’espri, mokeur !
Mé, shanté : m’a kouté ankor !

“Singing Mockingbird”[14]

Hidden in the Spanish moss,
Who is that who’s singing there?
I know it’s not the nightingale.
Listen to his voice: who is this?

Ah! The one who is singing,
The one who has himself that voice,
That everyone could listen to,
’Til starving to death in the woods.

This is a wizard of a bird!
Listen, listen to his music;
Listen; listen to him saying
To us: kiliklik, kiliklik!

Listen to the sweet sorcerer!
Listen closely to what he says;
He says to us: wawa, wawa;
He says to us: hoo-hoo, hoo-hoo.

Listen, during the quiet night,
Listen to those notes he sings us;
Listen as he sings: whip-pour-wil;
He’s calling out: kolin-foirou.

Listen as he changes his voice;
He’s singing the notes of a bird;
Notes of one who sings in the woods;
In the trees, the wind, the water.

He is master and enchanter:
Each and every one who hears him,
They stay right there; they forget all;
They would listen until they die.

See him waltzing across the sky;
He’s getting drunk on his own voice;
He doesn’t know what he’s doing,
Or anything at all; he’s mad!
Ah! Snitch, ah! Singing mockingbird,
You’ve got a devil inside you!

You are too keen, mockingbird!
Yet sing: I will listen again!

“Singing Mockingbird” Questions and Activities for Further Analysis

  1. The mockingbird is the state bird of Texas. What traits are mockingbirds known for? How are those traits reflected in the poem?
  2. This poem uses onomatopoeia to convey sound imagery; however, it would take many different birds to create all the sounds in this poem. Why has the author placed such cacophony in the beak of this bird? What theme or idea is conveyed by this cacophony?
  3. What words or phrases convey the danger of the mockingbird’s song? Why represent this song so dangerously?
  4. Adrien Roquette lived among the Choctaw, hearing the ‘call’ to live like them. If we interpret the call of the mockingbird biographically as an extension of the call that brought Roquette to live among the Choctaw, what colonizer attitudes toward the Choctaw are expressed through this poem?
  5. The first stanza references the nightingale, possibly an allusion to John Keats’ “Ode to a Nightingale” (1819). Read that poem and compare the two. How are they similar? How are they different? How do these differences demonstrate two different cultural contexts for understanding birds and their songs?

R. Paul Cooper (1981–)

R. Paul Cooper was born outside of New Orleans, LA, where he grew up with both French and Kouri-Vini spoken in the home. Like many of his generation, he was surrounded by family, friends, and grandparents who spoke both as their first languages, yet the older generation did not pass on French to the younger generation because many of them were traumatized by schools that punished them for speaking French. This generational torment was so effective, that from the 1970s until now, the number of French speakers in Louisiana has dropped from one million to less than one hundred thousand; native Kouri-Vini speakers number even less than that. For non-native speakers who grew up with the languages, learning them is an act of cultural remembrance and linguistic rebellion. Part of the language revitalization efforts sweeping South Louisiana, the poem below comes from Èdition Tintamarre’s 2022 book of poetry in Kouri-Vini, titled Févi.

“Désimm a Koronage” (2022)

“Désimm a Koronage” (2022)[15]

Viris-la færm magazin-yé,
difé-yé brul vyé shènn vær,
tempèt-yé noyé tou-l-kot,
é nou tro pòv pou fé brouyé!

Ça té pasé mal tou-lannin,
famiy té pærd dê pær é mær,
yé té pærd tou ki té vo shær,
yé té pærd padna juska dærñin!
Viris-la færm magazin-yé,
tempèt-yé noyé tou-l-kot—

Boug-yé porté kilòt é bòt
é envi pou kouri travayé,
mé san djòb, yé va rodayé,
é mèné yêkin kom ti-kròt.

Tempèt-yé noyé tou-l-kot,
difé-yé brul vyé shènn vær.

Kéyntòk-yé mènn yê zafær,
é ri buku byin apré nou,
kòz yé jonglé nou byin sòt,
mé nou té pa chwé lamær!
Difé-yé brul vyé shènn vær,
é nou tro pòv pou fé brouyé.
Y’olé nou manjé lamèd, yé,
mé nou va manjé boukanin;
apré yé, nou kapab gañin,
si nou pa gin pœr barbouyé.

No asé rish pou fé brouyé,
mé yé færmé stil, magazin-yé.

“Corona Décima”[16]

Virus done closed up all the stores,
ancient live oaks burn in fires,
hurricanes drown all the shores,
and us too poor to make a fuss!

The whole year passed bad like that, yeah,
families lost fathers and mothers,
they lost everything that mattered, yeah,
I mean everybody’s losing padnas!
Virus done closed up all the stores,
hurricanes drown all of the shores—

Wearing work pants and boots,
they hope to find a good job;
but they wear their soles out
just gallivanting about.

Hurricanes drown all the shores,
ancient live oaks burn in fires.

Kaintocks manage our affairs,
laugh at us real-real big,
treat us like chickens and pigs,
but it ain’t us kills the oceans.
Ancient live oaks burn in fires,
and us too poor to make a fuss.
They want us to eat shit and die,
but we going to eat barbecue;
if you’re not afraid to eat smoke,
you’ll have what it takes to get by.

We rich enough to make a fuss,
even if the stores stay trussed.

“Corona Décima” Questions and Activities for Further Analysis

  1. There are some unusual word choices in this poem. What words do you find unusual? What do they mean?
  2. The décima form also covers current events. What current events are portrayed here? What tone does the poem take toward those events?
  3. The décima is also meant to be humorous. Can you identify the pun in stanza 2? What other elements do you find humorous? Why?
  4. This poem employs the décima form, which repeats lines as a refrain. What lines are repeated? Taken as a whole, why are those lines repeated?
  5. The final line exchanges the word poor for rich in the refrain. Based on the content of the poem, what kind of riches might make a difference in their lives if they are not ‘store-bought’, materialistic ones?

 

Attribution:

Cooper, R. Paul. “Spotlight on Non-English U.S. Poetry in Translation.” In Surface and Subtext: Literature, Research, Writing. 3rd ed. Edited by Claire Carly-Miles, Sarah LeMire, Kathy Christie Anders, Nicole Hagstrom-Schmidt, R. Paul Cooper, and Matt McKinney. College Station: Texas A&M University, 2024. Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.

 


  1. Vicente J. Bernal, “Dios Bendiga a R——————,” Las Primicias, Telegraph-Herald, 1916, 72.
  2. Vincente J. Bernal, “‘God Bless ———————’,” translated by Cooper, R. Paul, in Surface and Subtext: Literature, Research, Writing, 2nd ed, edited by Claire Carly-Miles, Sarah LeMire, Kathy Christie Anders, Nicole Hagstrom-Schmidt, R. Paul Cooper, and Matt McKinney (College Station: Texas A&M University, 2023). Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.
  3. Vicente J. Bernal, Las Primicias, Telegraph-Herald, 1916, 72, Internet Archive, accessed August 24, 2022, https://archive.org/details/lasprimicias00unse/page/72/mode/2up.
  4. Abar is the typo; it should read, azar.
  5. Vincente J. Bernal, “America,” translated by Cooper, R. Paul, in Surface and Subtext: Literature, Research, Writing, 2nd ed, edited by Claire Carly-Miles, Sarah LeMire, Kathy Christie Anders, Nicole Hagstrom-Schmidt, R. Paul Cooper, and Matt McKinney (College Station: Texas A&M University, 2023). Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.
  6. The Beehive of New Orleans and The Louisiana Atheneum, respectively.
  7. Resonance and Will o’ the Wisp, respectively.
  8. Léona Queyrouze, “Sonnet,” Comptes-Rendus de L’athénée Louisianais, 1886, 252. Google Books, accessed August 24, 2022, https://www.google.com/books/edition/Comptes_rendus_de_l_Ath%C3%A9n%C3%A9e_louisianai/p1pIAAAAYAAJ?hl=en&gbpv=0.
  9. Léona Queyrouze, “Sonnet,” translated by Cooper, R. Paul, in Surface and Subtext: Literature, Research, Writing, 2nd ed, edited by Claire Carly-Miles, Sarah LeMire, Kathy Christie Anders, Nicole Hagstrom-Schmidt, R. Paul Cooper, and Matt McKinney (College Station: Texas A&M University, 2023). Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.
  10. Léona Queyrouze, “Allegory—Reflection of a Creole,” L’Abeille de la Nouvelle-Orléans, 1891, https://news.google.com/newspapers?nid=nlKf13ul9_IC&dat=18910621&printsec=frontpage&hl=en.
  11. Léona Queyrouze, “Allégorie—Pensée d’un Créole,” translated by Cooper, R. Paul, in Surface and Subtext: Literature, Research, Writing, 2nd ed, edited by Claire Carly-Miles, Sarah LeMire, Kathy Christie Anders, Nicole Hagstrom-Schmidt, R. Paul Cooper, and Matt McKinney (College Station: Texas A&M University, 2023). Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.
  12. Gwendolyn Midlo Hall, Africans in Colonial Louisiana: The Development of Afro-Creole Culture in the Eighteenth Century, LSU Press, 1992.
  13. Adrien Roquette, “Mokeur Shantuer,” Le Meschacebé, March 09, 1878, Library of Congress, accessed August 24, 2022, https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn86079080/1878-03-09/ed-1/seq-3/.
  14. Adrien Roquette, “Singing Mockingbird,” translated by N. A. Wendte, in Surface and Subtext: Literature, Research, Writing, 2nd ed, edited by Claire Carly-Miles, Sarah LeMire, Kathy Christie Anders, Nicole Hagstrom-Schmidt, R. Paul Cooper, and Matt McKinney (College Station: Texas A&M University, 2023). Used by permission of the author.
  15. R. Paul Cooper, “Désimm a Koronage,” Févi, Éditions Tintimarre, 2022, 99-100. Used by permission of the author.
  16. R. Paul Cooper, “Corona Décima,” translated by R. Paul Cooper, in Surface and Subtext: Literature, Research, Writing, 2nd ed, edited by Claire Carly-Miles, Sarah LeMire, Kathy Christie Anders, Nicole Hagstrom-Schmidt, R. Paul Cooper, and Matt McKinney (College Station: Texas A&M University, 2023). Used by permission of the author.
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2.4--Spotlight on Non-English U.S. Poetry in Translation Copyright © 2024 by R. Paul Cooper is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License, except where otherwise noted.