To Jelly

On January 26th, I shared the first poem from a book gifted to me by my grandfather-in-law, Pedro Rodríguez Miranda, titled “Poema del Amor Joven“. Today, I’m delighted to present the second poem, titled “A Jelly”. Pedro composed this poem in 1946, dedicating it to his eternal love, Ángela (Jelly) Vidal González. All the poems were originally in Spanish, and the translations were a joint effort with my beautiful wife, Liza, Pedro’s granddaughter. I firmly believe in preserving Pedro’s love-infused works. Our hope is that future generations of the Rodriguez family will discover and be inspired by the love and words of this remarkable man.   

A Jelly

Jelly del alma querida, dulce flor, luz de mi vida,
Rayo de sol mañanero que entra por mi balcón,
Tus besos tiernos son notas etéreas de mi canción.

Mujer santa, de alma noble,
La Ella de mis ensueños, siempre fiel a mi pasión;
Eres fuente cristalina que en mi pecho viva brota,
Eres la blanca gaviota, eres palabra divina.

Dentro de mí llevo ardiente la llama de tu mirada;
Oigo tu voz en el viento y ella inspira mi balada.
Quiero tenerte a mi lado, besarte la frente tibia,
Y en ese beso profundo quiero saber lo que piensas, 
Adivinar tus deseos, para entregarte mi ofrenda.

Eres diosa de mis rezos, vivo amor que en mí suspira;
Eres mi sueño en la noche, mi pensamiento de día. 
Mientras duermo yace inerte tu imagen en mis pupilas.

Te juro, Jelly, te juro, ante la Virgen María,
Que aunque hayan más mujeres, y mientras las luz exista,
Te he de entregar, si lo quieres, alma, corazón y vida.

Mas Jelly, si llegara un día tan triste
En que la suerte reversa hiciera tu amor perdiese,
Morirá en mí la Poesía, sólo negras elegías
Podrá mi amor ofrecerte.

Diciembre del 1946.
To Jelly

Jelly, my beloved, sweet flower, light of my life,
Ray of morning sun that enters through my balcony,
Your tender kisses are ethereal notes of my song.

Holy woman, with a noble soul,
Woman of my dreams, always faithful to my passion;
You are the pure spring that sprouts from my chest,
You are the white seagull, you are divine word.

Within me, I carry the flame of your burning gaze;
I hear your voice in the wind, and it inspires my ballad.
I want to have you by my side, kiss your warm forehead,
And in that deep kiss, I want to know your deepest thoughts,
Guess your desires, to give you my offering.

You are the goddess of my prayers, living love that sighs within me;
You are my dream at night, my thought during the day.
While I sleep, your image lies inert in my pupils.

I swear, Jelly, I swear, before the Virgin Mary,
That although there are more women, and as long as the light exists,
I will give you, if you want, soul, heart, and life.

But Jelly, if a day so sad were to come
When your love, fate reversed,
Poetry will die in me, only black elegies
could my love proclaim.

December 1946

About the Author:

Pedro Rodríguez Miranda was born in Aguadilla, Puerto Rico, on 22 February 1930. He completed his primary and secondary education in Puerto Rico before moving to New York City to attend college when the Korean War started. He joined the Marine Corps and served four years, completing his enlistment and receiving an honorable discharge. After his service, he returned to New York City and attended college, receiving his Bachelor’s degree in Business Administration. Upon graduation, he worked for the city until 1965 when he returned to Puerto Rico. He worked as a high school teacher in Aguadilla and completed his second Bachelor’s degree in Secondary Education from the University of Puerto Rico – Mayagüez.

43 thoughts on “To Jelly”

  3. so beautiful! many tx for sharing with us. also tx much for visiting my site. I love anything to do with books & would be thrilled if you’d write a guest blog post for my site, which is for anyone who enjoys writing, or books, and all the arts. If you think it might be fun or helpful to have my followers (who total about 10k across my various social media) meet you, here’s the link for general guidelines: https://wp.me/p6OZAy-1eQ – best, da-AL

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  9. What a lovely thing for you and your wife to do in translating the poems. I hope your entire family appreciates the effort. I realize a good deal of thought has to go into translating one language to another. This example is perfect for the holiday. Hugs to you both.

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  10. Edward, thank you for sharing these poems. They are downright beautiful. It’s funny, because when I think of the 40s and 50s, I don’t think of them as a time of poetry for some reason. Or perhaps the strangely tinted lenses of the past convince us (me?) that poetry was not something “men” wrote. This may just be my perception and please forgive me if it is. That stated, it is refreshing to confirm that such men existed during this time.

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    1. Kevin, thank you. Interestingly, in Puerto Rico, the 1930s, 1940s, and 1950s stood out as significant periods for poetry. Great poets such as Luis Lloréns Torres, Luis Palés Matos, and others wrote magnificently during that time. It was also a period when, in my opinion, the Spanish language was at its peak.

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      1. Edward, thank you for this reply. I just learned something new, and for that I am extremely grateful.
        I believe the perception I have stems from 1940s and 50s America being held up as some kind of “golden era”. A time when “men were men”, they were the workers and “women were housewives” and stayed home.
        And please don’t misunderstand, I am not endorsing that mindset at all, nor have I ever. I just think that the narrative often laid out to us, sometimes obscures the fact that, yes, men could and did write poetry, women were far, far more than “housewives”, and people encountered challenges just like we do today.
        But again, I have learned something new and been given a valuable reminder that poets have always existed, and some, as evidenced by your post, spoke quite eloquently.

        Hopefully the above makes sense.

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          1. Agreed. I know some would say that a era was a better and simpler time, but in some regards, I think it was not.
            As Billy Joel once said, “The good old days weren’t always good, and tomorrow ain’t as bad as it seems.”
            We may have forgotten some of the good, but we’ve come a long way on other fronts, with more progress needed.

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  16. Oh my gosh, Edward, what a beautiful, adoring poem by your wife’s grandfather. Nearly every woman in the world would be envious of such an outpouring of emotion! He must have been a very special man. I’m so glad you and your wife are translating and sharing his poems.

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  17. Excellent job on keeping my father’s poem alive by extending the life and extended the reach of his poems. My father Pedro now has great grand children born and living in the USA can now enjoy and understand the poems that father composed.

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