Liza

Today, as part of our series featuring poems by Pedro Rodríguez Miranda, my grandfather-in-law, we turn our attention to the second section of his book, titled Love Poems in Old Age. We will explore his fifteenth poem, “Liza.” This poem holds special significance as it was written for his granddaughter (my beautiful wife). I have witnessed the deep and pure love he felt for her and the unbreakable bond between them. Liza was the first of eight grandchildren. In the future, I’ll be sharing more of Pedro’s beautiful poems dedicated to his other grandchildren and his great-granddaughter. Before continuing with the poem, I’d like to share a beautiful picture of them from a group trip through Europe in 2001.

Pedro and his Granddaughter Liza – 2001
Liza

Luz de mis ojos, preciosa
Música de alegre diana,
Flor mañanera y hermosa
Risa sincera y lozana.

Eres la grilla de papa.
La querendona de mama.
Con tu radiante presencia
Llenas un vacío en mi alma.

Eres dulce cual la miel,
E inquieta como la brisa,
Trabajadora y honesta;
Eres del vivir la chispa.

Los cuentos que te contaba
De niña, se me olvidaron,
Mas yo sé que en ti dejaron
Sabores de aquel pasado.

Yo sé que por mí has llorado,
Mi pedacito de amor,
Mas todo lo que ha pasado
Es consecuencia inaudita
De una vida que se agita
Y experimenta el dolor. 

Soy feliz con tu presencia,
Y en tu ausencia soy feliz;
Si no te tuviera a ti,
No sería tan feliz
En esta larga existencia.

Queda establecido el punto,
Que nuestro amor mutuo es.
No te querré ahora tanto
Por quererte más después.

Porque eres mi equilibrio
Y el afán de mi vivir,
Quisiera siempre existir
Si te tuviera a mi lado.
¡Que fortaleza me has dado,
Tú mi lirio perfumado!

Y cuando llegue el momento
Que nos separemos, Liza,
No olvides, nuestros quereres
No terminan, se desplazan.
Liza

Light of my eyes, precious one

Music of a joyful dawn,

Morning flower, beautiful

Sincere, vibrant laughter.

You are Papa's little cricket.

Mama’s beloved one.

With your radiant presence,

You fill a void in my soul.

You are as sweet as honey,

And restless like the breeze,

Hardworking and honest;

You are the spark of life.

The stories I once told you

As a child, I’ve forgotten,

But I know they left in you

Flavors of that past.

I know you have cried for me,

My little piece of love,

But all that has happened

Is the unheard consequence

Of a life that stirs

And experiences pain.

I am happy with your presence,

And in your absence, I’m happy;

If I didn’t have you,

I wouldn’t be as happy

In this long existence.

The point is now established,

That our love is mutual.

I won’t love you as much now

To love you more later.

Because you are my equilibrium

And the drive of my life,

I would always want to exist

If I had you by my side.

What strength you have given me,

You, my fragrant lily!

And when the time comes, Liza,

For us to part ways,

Do not forget, our love

Does not end, it merely shifts.

(Translated by Edward Ortiz)
Previous Poems:
1. Young Love
2. To Jelly
3. Message of Love
4. Subtle Dream
5. Honeymoon Journey
6. That is Love
7. Nostalgia
8. Sad Christmas
9. A Verse for You
10. You Arrived
11. Letter to My Wife
12. To the Colón Park of Aguadilla
13. Legend of the Flamboyant
14. Evolution of Love

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.

47 thoughts on “Liza”

  4. Such a moving and beautiful poem to Liza and such a gift to have shared a poem to each of his grandchildren. He is clearly such a wonderful and loving soul to share his heart and take the time to let each of them know how he feels about them. Truly touching! Thanks for sharing, Edward💕

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  5. Such pure love, indeed! It’s perceivable in almost every sentence throughout the poem! And it ends in a very deep and meaningful way. He said it all, beyond any physical or human limitations. Such a beautiful and sweet poem—love in its innocent ways. Thanks for sharing, Edward! Pedro’s poems are always a balm for the soul. Infinite light and blessings to you, Liza, and Pedro*

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        1. Same in my case. I only spent time with my maternal grandmother. My whole father’s side of the family was AWOL, and my maternal grandfather died when my mom was a teen. She’s definitely fortunate because she spent time with all four of her grandparents. I had the privilege of meeting them all and spending time with them, so I guess I was fortunate in that respect.

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  10. Absolutely Beautiful Poem from your GrandFather-in-Law. What a honor it is for your beautiful wife to have such a tribute and dedication.

    Thank you and Thank your wife for sharing this Beautiful Art with us.

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  14. Fortunate granddaughter.

    And fortunate grandfather. I wrote my own daughter a whole handful of poems of tender and anguished love and the only one she remembers now is one I wrote to be humorous, about some little habit of hers, because it was so typical of all of us parents’ struggles in this regard.

    I made much, in the poem, also, about my own deeply concerned self doubts and inner questioning through that (very mild) process also.

    Some of the other poems I wrote for her then were published in chapbooks, both in Sacramento and out of San Francisco’s old North Beach. I never tried to publish the one she remembers.

    The only part that she brings to mind, in adulthood, of that poem or any other written for her is that she was described as asked to stop doing this one little thing, and didn’t.

    I think your wife did not receive her grandfather’s gifts so cavalierly.

    It brought a tear to my eye, remembering parenthood through eyes so very much like my own. Thank you again for sharing this series with us all.

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    1. Ana, thank you so much for your comments. I know my wife cries every time she reads the poem or talks about him. She started to cry as soon as she read the title of the post. I’m sad to hear about your poems. Sometimes, for whatever reason, we, as children, do not know how to connect with our parents or how to see the good in everything. I’ve struggled at times with my mom, but I try very hard to remember the good things—though not always successfully. But I continue to work on that. As long as we are still alive, there is always hope. Blessing to you, my friend.

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  18. “And when the time comes, Liza,

    For us to part ways,

    Do not forget, our love

    Does not end, it merely shifts.”

    Yes. 👏 👏
    Loved this!
    Always feel like I’m stepping back in time when you share these poems. Beautiful 🙏 thanks Edward. Happy Friday, enjoy your weekend 😊

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