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IN PICTURES
AND POETRY
COMPLIMENTS OF THE
INSTITUTE OF
TOURISiU
GOVERNMENT OF
PUERTO RICO
1457 BROADWAY
NEW YORK
CYNTHIA PEARL MAUS
author of
Youth and Creative Living
Christ and the Fine Arts
COMPLIMENTS OF THE
INSTITUTE OF
TOURIS/n
GOVERNMENT OP
PUERTO RICO
1457 BROADWAY
NEW YORK
V
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tfj
3
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IN PICTURES
AND POETRY
Cynthia Pearl Maus
OM
An Anthology of Beauty
on America's "Paradise of the
Atlantic"
COMPLIMENTS OF THE
INSTITUTE OF
TOURIS/Vl
GOVERNMENT OF
PUERTO RICO
1457 BROADWAY
NEW YORK
^
THE CAXTON PRINTERS, ltd.
CALDWELL, IDAHO
1941
COPYRIGHT 1941
BY
CYNTHIA PEARL MAUS
All rights reserved.
Lithographed and bound in the United States of America by
The CAXTON PRINTERS, Ltd.
Caldwell, Idaho
66530
(H)
COMPLIMENTS OF THE
INSTSTUTE OF
TOURSSrVl
GOVERNMENT OF
PUKRTO RICO
1457 BROADWAY
NEW YORK
Dedicated to
the poets and artists of Puerto Rico
whose enthusiastic co-operation
has made possible this
anthology
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Page
Introduction ^ 5
Entering San Juan Harbor, Author Unknown 25
Borinquen, Rafael Rivera Otero 26
The Haunted Sentry Box, Lillian Cannon Collier 29
San Christobel, Muna Lee 29
Borinquen Sunrise across Candado Bay, Elizabeth
Kneipple Roberts 3 1
Nocturne, Lillian Cannon Collier 32
Los Caballitos Blancos, Sarah Palmer Colmore 3 5
Puerto Rico, ]ose Gautier Benitez 37
Night Winds' Oratorios, Author Unknown — 41
A Spanish Home, Esther Turner Wellman 43
Powder Puflfs, Sarah Palmer Colmore 4 J
Shadows, Cecil E. Stevens 47
A Tropical Moon on Good Friday, Cynthia Pearl Maus — 5 1
Palm Groves, Elizabeth Kneipple Roberts 5 5
El Yunque, Cecil E. Stevens 57
MoonUght, Reflections, Jose A. Franquiz 59
The Mountains Know, Concha Melendez 61
The Flamboyant, Grace Spencer Phillips 65
The Flamboyant, Cecil E. Stevens ^^
Flamboyant Trees, Elizabeth Kneipple Roberts 67
Flamboyan, Sarah Palmer Colmore - 68
From Guayama to Cayay, Author Unknown 7 1
Crosses against a Tropic Sky, Sarah Palmer Colmore 75
9
Page
The Southern Cross, Sarah Palmer Colmore 76
Democracy, Esther Turner Wellman 79
Into the Slums, Nathan H. Huffman 81
The Wind, Cecil E. Stevens 85
Psalm, Jose A. Franquiz 89
Puerto Rico, Jose A. Balseiro 90
Night on the Old Sea Wall, Elizabeth Kneipple Roberts-- 93
Meditation of a Royal Palm, Cecil E. Stevens 95
Boys March, Esther Turner Wellman 99
Rich Port, Muna Lee 101
Nocturne, Esther Turner Wellman 105
Night, Esther Turner Wellman 106
A Tropic Requiem, Sarah Palmer Colmore - 109
A Song of Dreams Come True, Muna Lee 111
Orchids, Sarah Palmer Colmore 113
The Temple, Elizabeth Kneipple Roberts 115
The Traveler's Palm, Cecil E. Stevens 119
The Traveler's Palm, Cynthia Pearl Maus — . 120
Caribbean Fantasy, Mtma Lee 123
Sensations of Fatherland, Jose A. Balseiro 125
A Father, Cecil E. Stevens 129
Twilight Silhouettes, Cynthia Pearl Maus 131
Catano, Lillian Cannon Collier 132
Bamboo, Nathan H. Hufftnan — 135
Caribbean Noon, Muna Lee — 139
Hacienda, Muna Lee — 141
Puerto Rico at Sunset, Sarah Palmer Colmore — - 143
1
Vage
The Sea, Cecil E. Stevens 145
Carmencita, Elizabeth Kneipple Roberts 149
Acacia, Muna Lee 15 3
Cane Fields, Lillian Cannon Collier 15 5
Arrows, Sarah Palmer Colmore 156
The Bells of Guaynabo, Cecil E. Stevens 159
CoquH, Sarah Palmer Colmore 161
Coqui, Cecil E. Stevens 162
The Steps, Nathan H. Huffman 1 6 5
The Polytechnic Hills 166
Punta Alcatraz, Muna Lee 169
The Spectator, Muna Lee ^ 171
Don Henry, Muna Lee 1 72
Puerto Rico, William S. Kenney 175
APPENDIX: Who's Who among Contributing Poets
and Artists 1 79
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 189
INDEX OF POETRY BY AUTHORS AND TITLES— 193
INDEX OF ARTISTS CONTRIBUTING ILLUS-
TRATIONS 1 9 5
1 1
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Map of Puerto Rico trade routes Endsheets
Orchids in Puerto Rico Frontispiece
Page
The ancient citadel of El Morro 24
The haunted sentry box, San Cristobel — 28
Candado skyline at sunrise 3
Sea waves at night — Los Caballiios Blancos 34
La Plata Valley 36
Coconut palms beside the sea â– ^O
The world-famed Casa Blanca at San Juan 42
A cloudy sky at dawn 44
The humble hut of the Jibero 46
Moonlit cross in the hills 50
Palm groves in the evening 54
El Yunque Mountain 56
Moonlight reflections 5 8
Dos Bocas Mountains ^0
The flamboyant, or royal poinciana, tree in summer 64
Puerto Rico's winding highways . 70
Crosses against a tropic sky — San Juan Cathedral 75
Symbol of Democracy — Puerto Rico's $7,500,000 Capitol 78
Homes of the poor in San German 80
"Winds and clouds in Puerto Rico 84
The majesty of Puerto Rico's mountains 88
A Moorish gate on the old sea wall, San Juan 92
The royal palm in meditation 94
Coast defense maneuvers 98
San Juan's magnificent shore line 1^^
1 3
Vage
Nocturne in Puerto Rico 1 04
A tropic requiem 108
The orchids of Puerto Rico 112
God's templed trees 114
The traveler's palm 118
"Vista de Agtiadilla," by Rafael Arroyo Gely 122
Siesta time in Puerto Rico 124
A Puerto Rican funeral among the humbler class 128
A fisherman home-wending from the sea 130
The stately bamboo tree, Costello Hall, San German 134
"Puerto Rico: Harbor Minnows," "Walt Dehner 138
Resting the oxen in Don Efren's field 140
Sunset at San Juan 142
A tropical sea at sunrise ., 144
Dawn breaks over the mountains and in Carmencita's
home 148
Chapel at Porta Coeli with acacia trees in the back-
ground 152
Sugar cane in bloom in Puerto Rico 154
Temple bells in the village plaza 158
Garden pools of Casa Blanca, where the coqut hides 160
Symbolic memorial steps. Polytechnic Institute, San
German 1 64
"Muralla," by Rafael D. Palacios 169
"The Spectator" 170
Street scene in San Juan 174
14
INTRODUCTION
Now and then, one has the privilege of spending
a winter in a spot so entrancingly beautiful, that
not to share its heritage of beauty with someone else
seems sacrilegious. Such a spot is the island of Puerto
Rico, in which the compiler of this anthology was
privileged to spend the winter of 1939-40.
Puerto Rico, sometimes called the "Paradise of
the Atlantic," was discovered by Columbus on
November 19, 1493, on his second voyage to the
then New World. His little fleet came to safe
anchorage oflF the shore where Aguadilla now stands,
and he and his small band of pioneers took possession
of this island in the name of the Crown Prince of
Spain. Thus this little island, that may someday
come to be known as the forty-ninth state, is the
only soil under the American flag on which
Columbus actually set foot.
With Christopher Columbus on that memorable
day was Ponce de Leon, whose quest for the "foun-
tain of eternal youth" led to his later explorations on
the mainland in what is now known as Florida.
However, Ponce de Leon was the colonizer of
Puerto Rico and its first governor, and his remains
lie buried today in the Cathedral of San Juan.
The island of Puerto Rico is only about a hun-
dred miles long by thirty-five miles wide, yet, like
1 5
many other early Spanish colonies in the Caribbean,
it soon became the object of concerted attacks by
the enemies of Spain, as well as by roving bands of
pirates and freebooters.
In 1528 the French successfully landed a party
that sacked and burned the town of San German.
The erection of the great Fortaleza at San Juan was
authorized at that time, but actual work on the
structure was not begun until 1533. Ten years
later San German was again attacked and burned
by the French. In 1576 the French again assaulted
the city, but were defeated.
In 1595 Sir Francis Drake approached San Juan
in quest of a rich deposit of gold and silver bullion,
but was repulsed after three days of hard fighting.
Three years later â– the British, with a large fleet,
landed a thousand men at Santurce and fought their
way into the city, forcing the surrender of El
Morro, only to lose control later.
The Dutch attacked the city in 1625 unsuccess-
fully, being forced to raise their siege of El Morro
after their leader was badly wounded in a hand-to-
hand combat with the Spanish commandant. At
other times, various pirates and freebooters, includ-
ing Morgan, Cook, Grand, Captain Kidd, and
others, attacked the city of San Juan or pounced
upon galleons laden with Puerto Rico's treasures
en route to Mexico or Spain.
Harvey and Abercrombie, famous English
1 6
privateers, with eight thousand troops, made a final
attempt to conquer Puerto Rico in 1797, but they,
too, were repulsed after hard fighting and the loss
of many lives.
At the beginning of the nineteenth century,
Spain, realizing that she had lost most of her con-
tinental colonies, began to direct her attention to
Puerto Rico, whose strategic location made this
little island of increasing value as a port of trade.
Slavery was abolished in 1873. The colony had been
granted representation at the Spanish Cortes in
1869, but with the change of government this
privilege was revoked some five years later.
It was not until as late as 1897 that Puerto Rico
was granted a modified form of self-government.
Before the new government could be fully or-
ganized, however, war was declared between Spain
and the United States, and on October 19, 1898,
the United States took formal possession of the
island, with Major General Brooks as military
governor.
Since the American occupation of Puerto Rico,
this island has gradually forged ahead to a promi-
nent position in the commerce of the world. It lies
in the direct line of trade, not only between North
and South America but also between European
countries and the Western Hemisphere. (See
endsheets.)
Puerto Rico is one of Uncle Sam's best cus-
1 7
tomers, since it buys more of the products of the
United States than any other country in the
Americas except Canada. It has an area of only
343 5 square miles, yet its population is over a mil-
lion and a half, and is steadily increasing.
It must be remembered that Puerto Rico was
colonized more than a hundred years before the
Pilgrims landed in Massachusetts.
This little island has many unusual character-
istics. Because of the trade winds, Puerto Rico has
both a tropical and semitropical climate. It is the
most mountainous island in the South Atlantic.
When Columbus was asked to describe it, he
crumpled up in his hand an oblong piece of paper,
and then threw it down on the table, saying, "That
is Puerto Rico." It is in reality the summit of a
submerged mountain range.
The ocean depth immediately to the north of
Puerto Rico is one of the two deepest places in the
seven seas, soundings there having reached a depth
of six miles.
In the mountains of Puerto Rico there are about
a hundred varieties of orchids, several of which are
found nowhere else in all the world.
The dense forest at the summit of El Yunque
Mountain in Puerto Rico has been declared by Dr.
Britten, a famous naturalist, to be the finest ex-
ample of a rain forest on earth. On El Yunque,
1 8
also, giant fern trees twenty feet or more in height
may be seen.
The flamboyant, or royal poinciana, trees are
more numerous and beautiful in Puerto Rico than
anywhere else in the world; and during the season
of their fullness, June and July, you may drive for
miles and miles through bowers of them along the
highways — an experience that has been likened to
passing through a tunnel of living fire, because the
branches meet over the roadway, and scarlet petals
cover the highways like the lifeblood of fallen
heroes.
Fortunate, indeed, is the visitor who catches his
first glimpse of Puerto Rico at sunrise. For at that
time both land and sea are glorified with the inde-
scribable beauty of a tropical sunrise, and the air is
cooled by the morning breeze. In the distance
mountain peaks are faintly discernible, and very
soon the morning's light will be reflected by the
dome of Puerto Rico's $7,500,000 capitol building.
Ancient El Morro stands grim and picturesque
as the guardian of San Juan, rising high above the
brilliant coloring of the harbor waters. Soon your
ship will glide by Casa Blanca and the Governor's
Palace, and then the full beauty of the city with
its 137,215 inhabitants is revealed. One almost
gasps at the loveliness of this first glimpse of Puerto
Rico's largest city. Palm trees, flowering shrubs,
marble benches, and brilliantly colored buildings are
1 9
everywhere in view. Spanish architecture prevails,
with here and there a sprinkHng of American
houses in contrast, for Puerto Rico is a strange
mixture of modern and primitive Hfe.
No trip to Puerto Rico is complete that does not
include a rim drive of the entire island, from which
the waving, feathery bloom of the sugar cane, in
season, may be seen. Pineapple groves line the hill-
sides; banana, platano, and mango trees are every-
where; the tobacco plant adds its beauty to the
rugged slopes, while coffee, orange, and grapefruit
add their fragrance to the air. But to see the most
rugged and beautiful mountain scenery one must
cross the island many times by various routes.
Every month of the year brings into bloom some
flowering tree or shrub of exquisite beauty — the
roble, the gorgeous tulip tree, the bucare, and the
flamboyant being among the island's most highly
colored flowering trees. Flowers and gorgeously
colored plants are everywhere in profusion. Hibis-
cus, bougainvillaea, poinsettia, orchids, lilies, hy-
drangeas, gladioli, roses, crotons, and a host of
other blooming shrubs and plants too numerous to
mention perfume the air.
Land of mountains, rugged and beautiful; land of
flowering trees and plants, brilliant and colorful;
land of orange blossoms and citrus greens; land of
almond trees and coconut palms, with here and
there the stately Australian pine and royal palm to
2
add dignity and grandeur to the view — this is
Puerto Rico.
The island is, indeed, a paradise for poets, for
artists, for storytellers, for musicians, and for all
others who love color and contrast, lights and
shadows, mountains and seas, flowers and trees,
where Nature puts on a new dress every time you
look at her and flaunts her beauty unashamed for
all to see.
Since the poets portray for us, perhaps better
than anyone else, the heart of a people, while artists
and camera devotees picture for us Nature's en-
trancing beauty, the author of this little volume
has brought together some of the most beautiful
descriptive poems by Puerto Rican authors, and
others who have lived long enough in the island
to absorb its matchless charm, and illustrated them
by artistic views that present the island's transcend-
ent beauty. And she sends out to you Puerto Rico
in Pictures and Poetry, that she may share with you
the afterglow of a winter in America's "Isle of
Enchantment." May you come to love and appre-
ciate its beauty and its people, as she has come to
love and to appreciate them during her brief sojourn
in this "Paradise of the Atlantic."
— Cynthia Pearl Maus
Springtime, 1940.
2 1
PUERTO RICO
Isle of mystery, sweet and still ;
Isle of movement with power to will;
Isle of memories, ages old,
Isle of a nation, young, yet old.
— William S. Kenney
r
ENTERING SAN JUAN HARBOR
Like unto a dream fulfilled into the light,
A web of delicate color, and slow streams
Of iridescence that in morning's beams
Invest the waiting world — so to my sight
Came this long curving bay; these mountains bright
With shaded blues and amaranthine gleams;
These hills primeval that man, meseems,
Has never marred; these palms of slender might.
But more insistent e'en than all of these
The haughty Morro, frowning Christobel,
Did rise from out the ocean by degrees
And strive in hoary pride their tale to tell —
Built but for strength, protection to all seas,
Now boast they higher claims of beauty's spell.
— Author unknown
2 5
BORINQUEN
(Indian name for Puerto Rico)
On the pirate roads of the Spanish Main,
Among sunny islands of sugar cane,
In the whirhng path of the hurricane.
Lies Borinquen.
Miles deep, from its grave of water and sand
Atlantis throws skyward its mighty hand,
And one finger tip — a privileged land —
Is Borinquen.
As your blossomed fields greet my loving eye
I remember some of the days when I,
Travel-bent, have wished to bid you good-by.
My Borinquen.
And I feel the wandering soul who seems
With one furtive glance at your sunny gleams
To retain forever enraptured dreams
Of Borinquen.
But Fate plays with her, like a silent boy
Toiling friendless hours with his fondest toy.
And Fate never gives one full hour of joy
To Borinquen.
26
she hides with a smile the wake of a tear.
Blue seas, a tropical fragrance, a clear
Laughing sun, laughing skies, bless my dear
Sweet Borinquen.
When my life is torn from the things that are,
With my soul at rest on the brightest star.
Piercing nebulae, I'll look from afar
Toward Borinquen.
And if ever after. Mother Earth, I do
From the starry clusters come again to you,
Bless me with the joys of being born anew
In Borinquen.
— Rafael Rivera Otero
27
U
o
I
THE HAUNTED SENTRY BOX
A dark and secret thing was here,
Unholy, dim with years.
Haunting you through the centuries
With old, forgotten fears.
Your empty eyes are staring now
Upon the Spanish Main,
Brooding on deeds of bitterness.
Remembering terror and pain.
Silence is part of the very stones
That hold your mystery fast. . . .
A little boat goes sailing by
Where once the galleons passed.
— Lillian Cannon Collier
SAN CHRISTOBEL
Vivid and still in the moon,
The almonds forget the breeze;
Red flowers droop from the cactus hedge,
Red leaves from the mango trees.
Incredibly blue is the sea,
Incredibly blue is the sky;
And above a wall four centuries old
Drifts a yellow butterfly.
— Muna Lee
BORINQUEN SUNRISE ACROSS
CANDADO BAY
(Sonnet)
Sometimes I wake as though I had been called
By some commanding voice from out of Heav'n,
And still with dreams and calm sleep half enthralled,
I rise and throw the casement wide, and then
I know why men seek God: The whole great world
Spreads there before my eyes afresh with morn;
Across the palm-fringed bay I see unfurled
A radiant tapestry which, to adorn
The sky, in matchless folds by angel hands
Is hung. Rich-colored, its bright hues dismay
The earthly artist who all speechless stands
And wishes he might dip his brush where they
Lie mirrored in the placid bay. The sun
Then suddenly rolls up and the day's begun.
— Elizabeth Kneipple Roberts
3 1
NOCTURNE
(Candado)
Does Sappho linger in the dusk upon this shore
To watch the ultimate gleam of Phaon's sail?
See how the waves scarcely stir beneath winds,
sighing
For a love that is ended and a sail vanished forever;
Beyond those rocks where lovers dreamed through
the twilight,
Palms, with high serenity, await the darkness.
And cypresses, slender and proud, lean away from
the sea.
Moving as shadows across an early moon. . . .
He will never return! You know and you do not
weep?
What is the sound that breaks through silence and
despair?
Oh, memory of grief from a thousand years ago!
Oh, sails forever lost to eyes straining through
darkness!
The winds are still and light fades upon the
water. . . .
Turn from the sea, now, for nothing remains.
— Lillian Cannon Collier
32
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LOS CABALLITOS BLANCOS
(The Little White Horses)
Written from our sea porch in the Candado.
In the salt stillness of a tropic night
We stood beside the sea.
The magic of a full moon's light
Worked eerie witchery.
Vaulting the reef's rough rocky wall,
Galloping swift and fleet,
Snow-white steeds at a moonbeam's call
Raced to our very feet.
We saw them gaily prancing
Across a silver sea;
The wavelets joined them dancing
In summer's revelry.
Some say 'twas idle dreaming —
A Spanish fantasy!
But we? We saw them gleaming,
White horses of the sea.
— Sarah Palmer Colmore
3 5
i
i
H-1
PUERTO RICO
BORINQUEN! Name as sweet to the thought
As is the memory of a deep love!
Beautiful garden, the ornament of America —
America, which is the garden of the world!
Pearl that the sea shook from its shell
With the dashing of its joyous waves;
Heron asleep amid the white foam
Of the snowy belt that girdles your shores;
You, that give to the sea breeze.
When kissed by its breath,
The graceful plumage of your palm groves;
You, that seem, amid the mist.
To the pilgrim arriving on your shores,
A fantastic city of foam,
Formed by the mermaidens in sport;
An enchanted garden.
Above the waters of the sea, which you rule;
A vase of flowers, swaying
Among foam and coral, perfumes and pearls;
You, that at evening pour over the sea,
With the colors that your sunset put on,
Another ocean of floating flames;
You, that give me the air I breathe,
And life, and the song that breaks forth of its own
accord! . . .
37
of this (American) world, you are the most beauti-
ful fragment,
O my fatherland! broken off and flung into the sea
By a violent cataclysm.
But you brought only the beauty of the vast
continent.
Without copying its pomp, or the terrors of its
greatness.
Upon your mountains, neither the tiger, the lion,
nor the jaguar
Utters its fierce and terrifying cry,
Nor does the boa constrictor coil upon the plains,
Nor does the untamed and savage alligator
Disturb the pure, transparent water
Of your gentle rivers . . .
Nor do your mountains, shaken upon their
foundations,
Sound with sudden tumult.
When, with hoarse, titanic breathing,
Orizaba and Cotopaxi roar.
No Niagara makes your soil tremble
With the fall of its immense cataract.
Where Iris, painter of heaven,
Joins to its borders of shining silver,
Gold and crimson, purple and topaz.
While the condor, monarch of space,
Mirrors himself proudly in its crystal;
You have — the sugar cane on the fertile savannah^
A lake of honey that undulates in the breeze,
While the foam of its graceful beard
Sways like a white plume.
And the palm that rocks in the air
Encloses in its hanging jar
The pure liquid of its aerial fountain:
And on the broad slope of your forests,
Where the cedar and the pendola reign,
Shines the charming garland of the coffee tree,
From the bent branch of which the berries of crim-
son and emerald
Bow to the ground.
You have your delightful nights.
That foretell to the heart happy love;
And murmuring springs of silver
In a garden of lilies and roses;
Turtledoves that complain in the forests,
Like sorrowful sighs;
Doves and troupials and mockingbirds.
That nest in the flowering limes.
In you, everything is happy and light,
Sweet, peaceful, caressing, and mild;
And your inner world owes its enchantment
To the sweet influence of the world without!
— Jose Gautier Benitez
3 9
3
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NIGHT WINDS' ORATORIOS
The heavens declare the glory of God,
And the firmament shoiveth His handiwork. — Psalms 19:1.
I love the ancient gospel of these trees.
The night winds' reverent oratorios,
The birds' amen in pauses of the breeze,
The surpliced lilies preaching in soft flows
With cadenced incense or slow litanies.
But more to me, perchance, the august breath
Of ocean with the pathos of a story
Revealed in all its roars or murmureth
Of beauty, mystery, of power, of glory:
The sea but echoes what the Eternal saith.
— Author unknown
41
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The world-famed Casa Blanca at San Juan
Photograph by Stuckert
A SPANISH HOME
I love a Spanish home
Where lonely fountains cry,
And where the inner patio
Looks up to greet the sky.
"Where scarlet roses blossom
To decorate the hair
Of every senorita
Who makes her dwelling there!
I love the Moorish bars
Through which I drop a rose;
Where a soft guitar
Tells a lover's woes.
I love a Spanish home
With ivy-covered stairs
That lead up to the roof,
Where I may breathe old prayers,
And sleep . . . and dream old dreams,
While Moonlight combs her hair
And drops a silver mist
On those who worship there.
For nowhere else does Moonlight
Dare make such bold advance,
As on old Spanish walls
Vined in deep romance.
— Esther Turner Wellman
43
O
POWDER PUFFS
This morning when the Lady Moon
Looked out upon the sky,
And thought to get it swept up soon
Of cloud dust floating by,
Quite suddenly she turned about
And what do you suppose?
Some naughty star-maids still were out,
Each powdering her nose!
The Lady Moon then used her broom
Across the sky in swirls,
And sent them flying to their room,
These giddy, gay star-girls.
Each impish star-maid, from the door.
As she entered in a huff.
Upon the tidy, blue sky-floor
Threw her cloudlet powder puff.
— Sarah Palmer Colmore
45
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SHADOWS
Shadows of bamboo
With lacy leaves
Traced upon the ground,
Speak to each other
Of the golden noon and
Tell queer tales
Of things that happened
Long ago.
Near is a simple hut
Of palm boards; the
Flickering candle
Casts odd shapes
Upon the wall;
As the tired mother,
Holding in her arms
Her little one,
Swings in the
Hammock to and fro,
And tells the world
In plaintive tune that
He who has no cow
No milk shall drink.
47
shadows upon the brightness
Of life,
Poverty with its
Checkered shade;
Yet bringing into high reHef
All the beauty God has made.
— Cecil E. Stevens
48
Moonlit cross in the hills
Photograph by Thompson
A TROPICAL MOON ON GOOD FRIDAY
A 1940 Good Friday meditation from the mountainside worship
shrine at McLean Conference Grounds, Puerto Rico.
Tropical moon, how you glow tonight,
High o'er the mountains, luminous, bright.
Telling earth's children, from near and afar,
God watches o'er them like yon evening star.
This is Good Friday, and years, years ago
In a land that's far distant
Your mellow light glowed on a cross
That was empty and naked, where Fie,
The world's blessed Saviour,
Once hung on a tree —
Dying that men might forevermore know
God's love, like the moonlight, steadfastly
Does glow on all of His creatures —
The high and the low, the rich and the naked.
The sick and the well, the saint and the sinner —
Christ died for them all.
Shedding His life's blood as suspended
He hung, there on Golgotha
Till Black Friday was done.
Luminous moon, as you shine tonight
O'er earth's weary children in lands near and far,
May your silver beams teach this strife-ridden
world
His calmness, serenity, patience, and love —
5 1
Love that will sheathe every sword in the land
And make of men, brothers, whose hearts under-
stand
The hearts of each other, and who answer the call
Of the Christ — "That they all may be one, as we,
Father, are one," in the unity of spirit,
And in the bonds of peace and love.
— Cynthia Pearl Maus
5 2
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PALM GROVES
Morjting
I have seen a palm grove
When early horizontal sunrays,
Streaming through the window of dawn,
Turned it to a gorgeous mosque,
With dark bare floors
And shadowy arches far above.
And slender gilded columns
Leading back and back into the mist
To some dim distant portal. . . .
Evening
And I have seen a palm grove
Shot through and through
With the multiple glory of sunset
Which, like a splendid stained-glass window.
Rose at one end of its vast columned nave,
Down whose lengths, through deepening shadows,
I have watched the myriad star-candles
Lighted, one by one.
On its far blue altar.
— Elizabeth Kneipple Roberts
5 5
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El Yunque Mountain
Photograph by Stuckert
EL YUNQUE
The Indians called me
Their God, because the sun's
First beams touch
My crest. They fashioned for worship
An idol of stone
With a face at one end like my own.
The Spaniards called me
"The anvil," up against the sky,
And the wind was the giant
Who used the forge
To fashion the lightning by,
And send thunderbolts rolling
Like cannon balls on high.
The jibero calls me
"The forest" and thanks his
Gods for my palms,
For I furnish the useful yaguas
That protect his folk
From all harm.
Well have I served my people;
The rivers that fall from my crest
Are full of gold for the taking;
The land which I guard is blessed.
— Cecil E. Stevens
57
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Moonlight reflections
Photograph by Morgan
MOONLIGHT REFLECTIONS
Looking out my window,
I have seen the moonlight
Shining on the tower.
The memory of Him
Has made me forget
My shadowland of earnest men.
. . . "Let not
your heart
be troubled." . . .
And while my comrades
Have passed thoughtlessly
Through this world;
I have intensely
Enjoyed my life
Hour by hour
Thinking of Him . . . !
. . . 'T have
overcome
the world." . . .
— Jose A. Franquiz
"God never publishes His miracles. He improvises
them before us. Because of this we never hear a
tree grow, a flower open, a Spring come."
— Jose A. Franquiz
5 9
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THE MOUNTAINS KNOW
I love my country's lofty mountains!
Here, where all is soft and quiet,
They are untamed.
They are the symbol of a hidden power
That germinates through the ages.
Sometimes the storm bursts upon their summits;
Into their virgin bosom the dew shakes its tears;
The sun surrounds them with a thousand halos;
The mist offers them fantastic kisses;
But they lift their foreheads
Unmoved before the mysteries that life contains,
Before men's struggles and petty ambitions,
Which are nothing, if seen across unfathomable
Infinite eternity.
The mountains, near by, are like a glowing hope;
And from afar, like a maiden's dream.
Floating in the blue distance.
Why do they rise thoughtful and serene?
Because they know many things unknown to us;
And in the nights full of blossoms,
The stars have told them the shining destinies
Of all the islands:
The great old past of the Isles of Greece,
The great new future that awaits the Antilles;
6 1
Of the genius of a victorious race,
The great deeds of Latin America,
The hymn of the peoples that are unfurHng,
One and many at the same time, the banner of
Bohvar's dream!
The mountains know it,
The mountains lofty and unmoved!
— Concha Melendez
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THE FLAMBOYANT
(Sonnet VI)
The flamboyant now mournfully does rue
Its flaming name, a travesty; one sees
A gray-brown tree 'gainst summer skies of blue.
Its branches flaunt no green, as other trees —
Only a few dead pods, mid sun and dew,
Echo a ghostly rattle in the breeze.
On mountainside and road in guise untrue
It bows its head in shame; it fails to please.
But hold! A feathery leaf appears, perchance.
And shy, reluctant blossoms come to sight,
The prelude to a burst of radiance
That soars, and sings a song of sheer delight.
Transfigured into vibrant, glorious flame.
The tree triumphantly avows its name.
— Grace Spencer Phillips
6 5
THE FLAMBOYANT
Fire of God, that blazes from bare boughs
And makes a burning altar to the sky,
While underneath the tree the petals fall
And lie like gleaming rubies!
O tree of beauty! Would our hearts could tell
The wordless ecstasy you bring.
As we stand mute before this gift from God —
A flowering flame tree, rising from the sod!
— Cecil E. Stevens
66
FLAMBOYANT TREES
In tropic spring
The flamboyants are red, red, red —
Everywhere a flaming, brilliant red!
Here they carelessly shed rubies
From their graceful scarlet arches
Where they canopy the road
As for a king;
There they set a costly mansion
In a frame of crimson splendor
Or in some poor peasant's dooryard
Riches fling
Till it seems the heart of Nature
Has been opened wide to scatter
Its bright ruddy drops afar
Such wealth to bring.
Oh! red, red, red bloom of gay flamboyants,
Everywhere a flaming, brilliant red
In tropic spring,
In Puerto Rico.
— Elizabeth Kneipple Roberts
67
FLAMBOYAN
Trailing down the mountain roads in
gown of flaming red,
The Lady of the Tropics lifts high
her queenly head.
Her regal crimson mantle is seen
from far and near;
We bow in awe and homage but not
in any fear.
Her Royal Higness passes, thru
city, shore, and town.
From June until November, and then
she settles down.
— Sarah Palmer Colmore
68
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FROM GUAYAMA TO CAYEY
Over Puerto Rico's mountains where the world is all
ablaze
"With the glories of the tropics, full of fleecy, float-
ing haze,
There's a twisting, winding roadway, and 'tis there
I would stay.
Riding on through sunlit splendors, from Guayama
to Cayey.
"On the Road to Mandalay" is a well-known
Kipling lay
By a man who knows just how to tell the things he
has to say;
But the road to Mandalay couldn't coax you out
that way
If you'd ever made the journey from Guayama to
Cayey.
A hundred devious turns present their tiny radial
length
To the chauffeur at the wheel who guides our
chariot's strength
Along that royal road which leads to still a better
view
Of a million miles of sea and sky that blend in
melting blue.
7 1
oh, you ride the hvelong day, first in shadows cool
and gray,
Then in golden, blazing sunlight, soak in every
potent ray.
Fourteen hundred miles away where the bright
flamboyants sway,
Take me back among the palm trees, from Guayama
to Cayey !
ye soul-starved, crazed dyspeptics who here waste
away your years!
1 would give your bloomin' city for one glimpse, as
it appears,
Looking down that painted valley, as our glory-
laden ride
Unfolds those mighty pictures only seen from this
divide.
This is yours for just the say, where the stone posts
mark the way.
And where only God and Nature share the divi-
dends that pay;
Fourteen hundred miles away where the world is
still at play,
Come with me and share these treasures, from
Guayama to Cayey!
— Author unknown
7 1
Crosses against a tropic sky — San Juan Cathedral
Photograph by Stuckert
CROSSES AGAINST A TROPIC SKY
We of the New World, who love this Island's shores
and heights,
Are often careless of the debt we owe the Old,
Are prone to look upon as our due rights,
The heritage four centuries have striven to
uphold.
Nor seldom do we ever pause to cast
A backward glance along Time's endless way.
Reflecting that upon that priceless past
The New and Old are building for Today!
For high upon Cathedral's stately tower,
From Church and convent, orphanage and
school,
The Cross is raised, a silent witness to the Power
Which brings the New World to the Old, within
Christ's rule;
And shining down from out a starlit sky
The constellation of the Southern Cross gleams
through the night.
Mute pledges both, that Truth will never die —
That Right will ever triumph over Might.
— Sarah Palmer Colmore
7 5
THE SOUTHERN CROSS
We sat outside in the tropic night,
My Httle son and I,
And watched the stars grow big and bright
As they spangled the velvet sky.
Just over the rim of the Carib Sea
The Southern Cross hung low,
On g chain of silver filigree,
Night's ros'ry of star-beads aglow.
**And Mother, you know," the lad's voice said,
"That you and Father and I
Make the Sign of the Cross on breast and head.
And God makes it there in the sky."
Night told her beads of silver stars.
As the Cross slipped into the sea —
"Keep him free, dear Christ, from sin that mars.
Let Thy Sign his talisman be;
"Let it touch his mind and heart," I prayed,
"And keep him staunch and true
To Thy banner there in the Heavens made,
The Cross on its field of blue."
— Sarah Palmer Colmore
76
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DEMOCRACY
Democracy is Christ, in all
The life and toil of man;
Though men may talk, and preach, and write,
It will not come till then.
Democracy is Christ, who takes
The time to bless a child;
And preaches to an outcast maid
In accents soft and mild.
Democracy is Christ, who heals
The moving mass of life,
And strikes in holy, righteous strength
The very roots of strife.
Democracy is Christ, who feeds
The roving multitude,
Then draws aside to pray for them
In lonely solitude.
Democracy is Christ today.
Betrayed and crucified;
Democracy is Christ to come,
Triumphant, glorified!
— Esther Turner Wellman
79
INTO THE SLUMS'-^
Into the slums went my class and I,
A merry class were we;
Out of the slums came the class and I,
A sobered group to be.
Into the face of a child we gazed,
Sick unto death was he;
Into the face of its mother, dazed,
Worn, and haggard was she.
Into a fatherless home we went,
The woman left alone;
Poor little mother so wan and spent,
Frail support for a home!
Crippled and orphaned and aged, too,
All in dire need of care;
Hunger and want as we never knew,
Poverty everywhere!
Little of hope found the class and I,
Faces blank with despair;
Nothing to live for, afraid to die,
Pitiful children of care!
♦This poem was written after taking a class of the Polytechnic Institute,
San German, to visit the poor section of the city. N.H.H.
Not far away, but right at our door,
Misery, squalor, woe!
One little look and forevermore
Pitiful tears must flow.
Into the slums with my class that day
There walked, although unseen,
One who of yore trod the bloodstained way,
The lowly Nazarene.
Into the slums went my class and I,
An aimless group were we;
Back we shall go with a purpose high,
Friends of the poor to be.
— Nathan H. Huffman
82
Winds and clouds in Puerto Rico
Photograph by Stuckcrt
THE WIND
I am God's artist!
The fleecy clouds I carve
To my own taste. Across the
Sky they tower, weird castles tall,
Or marching armies with their fluttering
Flags carved out of fluffy wetness
White as snow. Sometimes in sport
I mold a horse that balks
And rears across the blue.
Or in madness pile and hurl
The clouds, then laugh to see
The flaming tongues of lightning
Bite them through, scattering
My hills and valleys far away!
Upon the earth I make the
Flowers dance and bow to
My sweet tune, or toss aloft
The birds like petals fair, while
All the trees must sway before
My blast. Today I traced
Upon the ground an etching rare,
Of graceful lines that curved
And merged in one, then dropped
My tool, a leaf, upon the sands;
8 5
And whistling fled across the sea,
Leaving the ocean white with foam
Beneath my invisible feet,
On my way to beautify the world!
— Cecil E. Stevens
8 6
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PSALM
When I behold the beauty of God,
My heart goes mad with music,
But my silence would not trust me
The secret of a song. . . .
Many an hour have I spent
In communion with my books
Beneath the dimness of my lamp;
But this morn I have worshiped
With the majesty of the mountains,
the arching skies, the rolling verdures
and deep vast forests; the music of breaking
waters, the sonorous and harmonious noise
of nature mad with beauty, fragrance, and
love. . . .
And lo . . . I have found truth. . . .
I will make the world shake
And humanity tremble;
For I have been with God
In my country of divinities. . . «
— Jose A. Franquiz
'*Argue not there is no God. You may be in-
terrupted by an insect or confused by a flower."
— Jose A. Franquiz
8 9
PUERTO RICO
My island, fallen plume
Of the North American eagle:
Frail, solitary feather,
Why dream of a miracle
Since you have been wrenched
From the trailing wing of the mainland?
In the cemetery of water,
Until the miracle comes,
Raise, in the midst of the sea,
Your mound of earth.
Jose A. Balseiro
90
NIGHT ON THE OLD SEA WALL
(San Juan, Puerto Rico)
I walked beyond the moonlit garden, through
A Moorish gate o'erhung with flow'ring vine,
And sat beside the wall where sea winds blew,
Intoxicated, as with mellow wine.
By tropic night in all its mystery
Of stars that seem so near one might almost
Divine the secret of their twinkling glee.
Of shimm'ring waves whereon each rides a ghost
Of some lost mariner, of distant heights
So deep in clouds and slumbrous mists enwrapped,
That they suggest a realm of rare delights
Where I might dwell forever dream-entrapped.
Thus with white-magic tendrils of her art
Borinquen holds in thrall my willing heart.
— Elizabeth Kneipple Roberts
9 3
The royal palm in meditation
Photograph by Stuckert
MEDITATION OF A ROYAL PALM
High on this mountain pass,
My roots thrust down
To hold with tenacious grip
The soil beneath, how many years
I've stood! My leaves stir
With every gentle breeze that blows
Or storm that howls.
Daily I watch the hawk
Who slowly circles
In the blue canopy above,
And every leaf of mine claps
With mad joy, when like an arrow,
He fails to find his victim gone!
How many days the sun
Has warmed my heart; and made
The sap leap in my veins!
How many days Fve watched
The purple shadows flee
Before his rays, and heard
The solitary birds in prayer and song.
Down in that hollow there.
The noisy brook babbles continuously
To trees and flowers, as it rushes
Over stones and hides in silent
Deep pools where cattle stand.
9 5
This is a pleasant land of ours!
Far to the north I see the hills arise
That lead down to the sea;
In front the valley with its veil of mist!
The trails that wind down to its depths
Then up beyond the heights again
Are made by mortals. Yet even these
Stand for a minute at the sight
They see, and thank their Maker
For this world of ours!
Would that my heart could tell
Them of the stars at night
That wheel above my head;
The gentle dew that falls
In soft benediction on my leaves;
The rain that draws
Her trailing fingers o'er my grass.
Often on moonlight nights my leaves
Become as flaming swords
To flash my joy of life to those
Around, who know, like I, the
Beauty of all things. Often I
Cower as, sharp and swift.
The lightning flame bites
Around my head — and listen
As the thunder rolls far down
The valley. God is good
96
To let me taste these things:
Sun, dew, rain, and mist,
And feel the wind that sweeps the world.
— Cecil E. Stevens
97
I
BOYS MARCH
Boys march;
They do not know
Munition makers willed it so.
Boys march;
They only see
Duty and nobility.
Boys die
For human need;
They never know it is for greed.
— Esther Turner Wellman
99
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RICH PORT
This desperately tilted plane of land, our island,
Toppling from its gaunt sea-rooted pillar,
Slanted ever more definitely toward the sea-floor.
Toward that bottomless rift in the floor of Mona
Passage.
Shpping,
sliding,
creeping,
ever more surely,
This doomed beloved rock edging, inch by inch,
with the earthquakes
Toward implacable disaster.
Someday will lurch, will plunge, the long tension
ended.
And the ceibas and the yellow fortress and the
lizards and the market place.
The wild beauty of mountain cliffs hung with blue
morning-glories,
Immaculate cane fields and cool breath of coffee
groves,
Thatched hovels and trolley cars and Ponce de
Leon's palace,
Tree ferns and flame trees and frail white orchids,
My love and your pride,
1 1
All, all will lie in crushed indeterminate wreckage
for a thousand, thousand years
In the crevasse beneath the floor of Mona Passage,
With aeons of sea creatures moving lightly through
heavy masses of water
Far above the shattered nameless shards
That in 1940 were you and I and the flame trees and
Puerto Rico.
— Muna Lee
1 02
o
3
NOCTURNE
I sang in the temple of starlight,
Out of Eternity's space;
The moon, like a flickering candle.
Was there in its holy place!
A resonant chant from the distance
Came from the Great White Throne,
And then in my heart it echoed.
Like sound in a great church dome.
The grove was all painted for worship,
In lattice-work made of gold;
The moon — a holy artist —
Had left a painting that's old.
The soft, mystic hymn of the ages
Was sung by the evening star —
A Puritan, timid in beauty.
Who sang her solo afar!
The evening's grand march was majestic,
Like God in every land;
And I knelt to the One who carries
"The chain of stars in His hand."
— Esther Turner Wellman
1 5
NIGHT
How silently the night steals down,
Like death upon a home,
And then it turns to glory bright,
A world all of its own!
How silently the beauty comes
From domeless space unknown. . . .
We wonder, then, just what we are-
And worship, all alone!
— Esther Turner Wellman
1 06
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A tropic requiem
Photograph by Stuckert
A TROPIC REQUIEM
Silken sheen
On palm leaves green,
Moan of waves on shore.
Zephyrs blow-
In whispers low,
Chanting their dirges o'er.
Sobbing breeze
Through bending trees,
Tears of the sea's salt spray,
Ocean's knell
Like sacring bell
Tolls for the passing Day.
Night's sweet breath
Sighs at Day'^s death.
Pall of moonlight spread.
Taper stars
Through silver bars
Burn softly overhead.
Incense fume
From censer blooms;
Day of Toil is shriven.
Throbbing notes
From full bird throats
In sympathy are given.
1 09
Vestments white
Of radiant light
A Priestess Moon trails by.
Cowled hours
Down aisles of flowers
Pass under dome of sky.
Veil of clouds
The shrine enshrouds.
Night goes on her way.
Earth awaits
Till Heaven's gates.
Release the risen Day.
— Sarah Palmer Colmore
1 1
A SONG OF DREAMS COME TRUE
My lover was born on a tropic coast,
And I, far from the sea;
But the ardent eyes of my lover
Knew the dreams that came to me,
When I longed for wide, blue waters
And great winds flung out free.
And the magic words of my lover
Are the songs I tried to sing
When my heart grew sick for green hilltops
In the midst of the arid spring
That brought no rain to the wheat stalks
Nor brought me anything.
He is tall as a palm, is my lover.
As a flame tree, vivid is he; '
Dusk and fire in his utterance;
And about and over me
Are the warm soft wings of the trade winds
That blow from the tropic sea.
— Muna Lee
1 1 1
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H
I
ORCHIDS
Who bestowed upon them this loveliness
that takes one's breath away?
Who lavished tints an artist might strive
after but never quite portray?
Only of God's air and mist and sun
and radiant light,
Only of His rain and moon and sky
and starlit night,
Could there be fashioned this miracle
one believes in but cannot understand;
But if one will look well and long, one may
discern the imprint of His hand!
— Sarah Palmer Colmore
1 1 3
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God's templed trees
Photograph by Stuckert
THE TEMPLE
There, stranger, is the long winding road
From Bayamon to El Dorado. . . .
Stroll that way at evening
And you will find a sacred temple
More fair than those which yet remain
Great ruins of Hellenic prime,
For never yet has mere man
Equaled Nature in her proudest moments!
Here a sanctuary she has raised
Where one can only bow in deep bewilderment
At her omnipotence . . .
For she has wrought the royal palm trees
Into tall Corinthian columns of living marble.
Behold the grandeur of that white facade;
Stand there within its vaulted archways,
And your enchanted gaze will wander
Down dim, silent aisles
Where slender sunrays
Play through dense foliage and bright blooms
Whose colored shadows — red, emerald, and gold —
Fall more richly than from blazoned chapel
windows.
And at the end of those long vistas
From the chancel of her fertile meadows
Rise Porto Rico's dark green hills,
Alluring men to worship at her shrine;
1 1 5
And far beyond
She has reft the distant mountains,
Disclosing a luminous paradise
Where the glittering sea
With silver mist upon its face,
Seems resting motionless around the base
Of ancient Morro —
A castle built by men,
But now, in the bright glory
Of this holy hour,
Transformed by wide sun shafts
Into a promised mansion
Of the Golden City!
Pass that way, stranger,
And you will see and know these things.
— Elizabeth Kneipple Roberts
1 1 6
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Photograph by Siuckert, courtesy Mrs. Julia Bailey
The traveler's palm
THE TRAVELER'S PALM
A sketch of sandy waste —
The staggering rover
looks with eager eyes
To where a fan-shaped palm
Raises its fronds against the
blue, blue sky.
Water! — The life-giving stream!
With trembling hands
he slashes at the base —
And gulps the liquid that will
save his life!
And in his heart he says a silent
grace.
So God to each of us has sent a
Traveler's Palm —
His own beloved Son!
To fill our thirsty souls with hope and cheer,
To drive out our dense ignorance and fear,
And give to us the water of eternal life!
— Cecil E. Stevens
1 1 9
THE TRAVELER'S PALM
The traveler's palm in tropic lands
In greeting spreads wide its fronds,
As stately by roadside or desert trail
In dignity serene it stands.
And pilgrims along the dusty highway,
Beholding its majestic beauty from afar.
Shout with joy, when from out of nowhere
Arises this, Nature's fount.
For deep within the base of each palm frond
Is water, clear and cool, as from a spring,
To slake the thirst of every weary traveler.
And send him on his way refreshed.
Snugly against its heart the traveler's palm
Hugs queer blossoms, that neither wind nor rain
May tear and fling away its life-creative power
To reproduce its kind.
Its welcome is as generous as its fronds,
Wide-flaring, like a harp, to every breeze;
And weary travelers, resting in its shade.
Rise up with strength renewed.
— Cynthia Pearl Maus
1 2
Courtesy of University of Puerto Rico
'Visfa dc AgnadiUa" by Rafael Arroyo Gely
CARIBBEAN FANTASY
I like an island where people meeting
Say "Good-by!" in cordial greeting,
Where the hollyhock's called "St. Joseph's rod,"
And the Deity referred to as Papa God;
Where neighbor from window calls to neighbor
If the goat has strayed or the woman's in labor;
And slim brown amorous lizards crawl
In a stylized frieze across the wall.
Where any flower that's red and floppy —
Tree, bush, or vine — is dubbed a poppy;
And I dearly love, above the town,
The Great Dipper spilling, upside down.
— Muna Lee
1 23
'^•77
Siesta time in Puerto Rico
Photograph by Stuckcrt
SENSATIONS OF FATHERLAND
New fallen rain
Washed the mountains —
What a smell of damp earth!
The stream sings
Where it passes
Between the cane stalks. . . .
Suddenly the soul
Is filled with the fatherland.
Afternoon in Puerto Rico —
Somnolent sky, enamel and honey,
Expectant earth;
Hour of siesta;
Sea breezes, the coffee groves
Distilling nectar.
Night loosens the mantle
Of her mystery.
Carnival of stars
Eyes wide-awake.
Between basil and rosemary.
Paths of tobacco.
A dizain in the distance —
Folk-song of our fields:
Consolation of loneliness.
1 2 5
Distance . . .
Smell of damp earth.
Suddenly, the soul
Is filled with the fatherland!
— Jose A. Balseiro
1 26
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A FATHER
Two days ago my little son
Ran from our hut to meet my boat.
His baby feet upon the sands
Were soon erased by the lapping tide.
He was so dear!
I!ast night I worked all night
Upon this box to make it bright
With stars for his quiet feet.
His sister made these paper wreaths.
He is so light,
I scarcely feel his weight
As I walk on five miles to town.
The years, they say, bring comfort,
Like the tide that blotted from my view
His little footprints.
— Cecil E. Stevens
1 2 9
Hi ii iW ri y JPW
TWILIGHT SILHOUETTES
The sunset's glow is bright on far El Yunque,
While waves thud softly on the near-by shore.
Silent upon the beach a lone fisherman standing
With gesture slow, flings out his net once more.
And something in his action stirs the soul
With deep content, that simple things like these —
Twilight, and darkening shadows on the hills,
Then night, a fisherman home-wending from the
sea —
Such ancient, simple, and familiar things
Bid us remember, past reason or regret
That Christ, Himself, is but a fisherman
Who snares men's hearts with beauty for His net.
— Cynthia Pearl Maus
1 3 1
CATANO
O little town across the bay,
You might be Carcassonne —
The way you rest against the hills,
The way you cuddle down!
Beneath your painted roofs, I know
There must be things to see;
Your colors glisten in the sun,
Your houses call to me!
Oh, I would keep enchantment still!
I shall not cross the bay.
Lest I should find your shining charm
Had vanished on the way.
— Lillian Cannon Collier
1 3 2
i holograph courtesy of Polytechnic Institute
The stately bamboo tree, Costcllo Hall, San German
BAMBOO
Slender, jointed bamboo stem,
Rising leafless in the air,
Tell me why you wait so long
For the clothes you are to wear?
— Leaves will come in their good time;
First I grow and grow and grow,
Pushing eVer up and up
Just as far as I can go.
Tell me, slender bamboo stem.
How you know you're grown enough,
When to stop and give the leaf
Time to clothe your graceful tuft?
— From the hillside steep I rise.
Up and up until I view
Far and wide the landscape fair.
Underneath a vault of blue.
Tell me, fernlike bamboo tree.
Why with bended head you sway
With the gentle breeze that blows,
Bend the head as if to pray?
— Who can see the earth and sky.
Winding stream and purple hills.
See the breaking of the dawn
When the east with glory fills,
1 3 5
— See all this and never feel
Moved to bow and homage pay
To the One who made it all,
Bend the head as if to pray?
Swaying, slender bamboo tree.
Though you've grown so fair and tall,
Not with pride but gentle grace
You o'ertop Costello Hall.
— Nathan H. Huffman
1 3 6
CARIBBEAN NOON
The bellflower sky is hung
With a golden, clapper- tongue;
From the sea's dark lotus-cup
Spark to gold spark gleams up.
All firmamental blue
Is molten in these two;
All terrestrial gold
Those burnished stamens hold —
Vast sea-petals that underlie
Vaster petals of widening sky.
— Muna Lee
1 3 9
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HACIENDA
Afternoon in Don Efren's field
Tastes of honey and cinnamon and cassava root
And is drowsily heavy with yield
Of thickly fledged furrow and groves of wild fruit.
Sun-colored with mango, dusk-colored with cane,
Pungent with rose-apple, sleepy with water,
It smells of roasting coffee and jasmine and rain.
Of earth fresh-plowed by the oxen of old Don
Efren
— And is sultry and still as Don Efren's daughter.
— Muna Lee
1 4 1
PUERTO RICO AT SUNSET
Upon the sea of the sky's deep blue
The cloud-boats float along;
I catch a glimpse of a phantom crew
And the echo of a pirate's song.
The sun, with his scepter of magic light,
Turns the cloud-sails all into gold,
And the phantom crews row into the night,
All hoping their treasures to hold.
I watch the shadow of tree fern and palm
Grow black 'gainst the evening sky,
Like sentinels guarding with courage calm
The gold that the day has laid by.
— Sarah Palmer Colmore
1 4 3
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THE SEA
Wide is my domain. Up
Toward the north my waters lap
The icebergs. They gleam
And shine when the sun's
Rays strike them, like
Some glittering jewel.
Upon their white desolation
Lone sea birds scream their
Woe. And all the year
My restless heart beats on,
Clashing and heaving.
Dark my waters look,
Full of black secrets;
And cold, and damp, and raw
Is the wind that whistles.
Yet here within the tropics
A thousand islands lift their
Fronded heads. The sun-god
With both hands has poured his wealth.
White is that beach where coral
Rings scarce make a ripple
In the morning tide, white
And treacherous! Last night
My heart with a thousand jealous
Pangs was torn. I hurled aloft
14 5
The waters in my rage. They
Smote and fell upon the ships
Far out at sea — poor drowning
Flies that called on God for help.
Today I heard a maiden say,
"The waves all look like stairs."
(Ah, yes, by which some mount to heaven.)
"They look like soapsuds."
Perhaps!
I've washed so many souls.
— Cecil E. Stevens
1 46
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CARMENCITA
(A Mountain Lullaby)
Carmencita,
Little one,
Come to me,
For day is done.
There 'neath the red flamboyant tree,
Which scatters bright blooms on the ground
Until the floor and ceiling too
Of thy domain are scarlet hue,
Thou hast played long and mayhap found
Why Heaven blesses thee and me.
Carmencita,
Little one.
Dost thou not know
That day is done?
For now the mist steals down the hill;
The sun has hid himself away.
And from behind the western gate
Sends back such rays as swift create
A flamboyant o'er all the sky,
Your sleep with joyous dreams to fill.
Carmencita,
Little one.
Hear what comes
When day is done. . . .
1 49
The great white planets softly glide —
Nor seem they far away at all,
And down the valley home-lights glow
As though some stars had dropped below,
Until the night is like a ball
Star-studded, vast, with us inside.
Carmencita,
Little one,
Sleep peacefully
Till night is done,
And dawn breaks from its eastern home
And casts a flaming canopy
Above blue mountains wrapt in night,
And sets our valley wide alight
As with some new flamboyant tree
Which tells of this day's joys to come.
Carmencita,
Little one.
Awake once more.
For day's begun!
— Elizabeth Kneipple Roberts
1 5
Chapel of Porta Cocli with acacia trees in the background
i
ACACIA
All the island over acacia trees are blooming,
Shaking out blonde tresses upon the quivering air;
The breezes stumble drunkenly beneath their load
of fragrance,
The yellow starlight tangles in their tossing yellow
hair.
The Caribbean albatrosses fly through cloud on
cloud of incense,
Incense lifts in tawny smoke to smoky hyacinth
hills.
All the island over acacia trees are blooming,
Through all our island pulses their desperate sweet-
ness shrills.
Acacia like a whisper, acacia like a clamor, acacia
on the lowland and the saltland and the
highland,
Thought tosses in the shaken mind as the trees*
blonde blossom tosses.
Dizzy with acacia on an intoxicated island.
We plunge through clouds of perfume as plunge
the albatrosses.
— Muna Lee
1 5 3
CANE FIELDS
There's a ripple of silver, a shimmer of light,
Where the fields of sugar cane lie,
As the cane blooms stir and toss in the sun.
And sway with the wind passing by.
A chorus of blondes on a tropical stage —
Oh, sweet are the cane blooms and fair!
When they bow before wind rushing in from the sea
With the sun on their platinum hair.
— Lillian Cannon Collier
1 5 5
ARROWS
(Flechas)
Row on row of sugar cane
In lines of living green,
The harvest of the Tropics
In symbol pure is seen.
From colors of the sunset
The flechas take their dye,
Soft mauve and gold and azure.
Pointing upwards toward the sky.
As arrows mark the roadside
To guide the traveler's way,
These arrows of the sugar cane
Are signposts of the day,
The day when all the harvests
Of all earth's boundless store
Shall be for all earth's people
And want shall be no more.
— Sarah Palmer Colmore
1 5 6
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THE BELLS OF GUAYNABO
Upon a flame tree
On a bough are
Hung three bells,
That every Sunday
And at prayer time,
Their music swells
And clashes round the
Houses of the square.
Red are the blossoms
That softly fall and lightly
Touch their iron sides,
The tree, a living flame to God!
A burning altar of His love
That calls with throat of iron
To those whose ears are deaf,
Whose eyes are blind,
To come and worship Him.
— Cecil E. Stevens
1 5 9
COQUi!
(The tropic tree frog)
Coqut, Coqui, Coquil
The Spanish name suits you the best.
A tree toad, some say,
But to us you're the way
That leads to a tropic night's rest.
Coqui J Coqui, Coquil
How have you fallen from grace?
The lilt of your song,
As you go hopping along
Should fully establish your place!
Coqui, Coqui, Coqui!
Where are you hiding by day?
*'Look under the fronds
Of tree ferns, or in ponds
Where you'll find lilies and butterflies gay."
— Sarah Palmer Colmore
1 6 1
COQUt
Wee yellow frog, with eyes so bright,
You hide among the bushes, and at night
Lift up your voice in chanting praise
For sunshine and rain which fill your days.
Dear little frog, whose bell-like notes
Rise strong and clear each day.
When tempests roll and cyclones sweep our sky,
We are rejoiced to hear your voice again —
It is a sign the storm is passing by.
— Cecil E. Stevens
1 6 2
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Symbolic memorial steps, Polytechnic Institute, San German
THE STEPS^-
The steps!
The Poly steps!
A mass of brick and stone!
How odd to see them here alone,
Grim relic of the past.
The steps!
Memorial steps!
Where once was born a dream;
'Twas here the Founder caught a gleam,
A dream come true at last.
The steps!
Symbolic steps!
Like those by Jacob seen.
To many a student they have been
A gate to vision vast.
The steps!
The holy steps!
By right they have a place.
Let no rude hand these steps deface,
As long as time shall last.
— Nathan H. Huffman
• The steps referred to in this poem, written in honor of Founders' Day,
March 2, 1938, are all that remain of the original farmhouse where Poly-
technic Institute was founded at San German, and where the first students
ate, slept, worked, and studied.
1 6 5
THE POLYTECHNIC HILLS*
Oh, the Polytechnic Hills,
How majestic and how grand,
With their summits bathed in glory-
Like the fair and promised land.
Is it any wonder then
That the heart with rapture thrills,
As we stand and gaze with loved ones
On the Polytechnic Hills?
Refrain
Oh, the Hills, beautiful Hills,
How we love the Polytechnic Hills.
If o'er land or sea we roam
Still we think of happy home
And of friends among the
Polytechnic Hills.
Oh, the Polytechnic Hills,
Where our youthful days are passed,
Where we often wander lonely
And the future try to cast.
Many are the visions bright
Which the future ne'er fulfills
But how sunny are the daydreams
On the Polytechnic Hills.
♦ This is a Polytechnic Institute school song that was written many years
ago by one of the first students and dedicated to the magnificent view of
mountains and valleys that surround this, one of the oldest evangelical educa-
tional institutions in Puerto Rico.
1 6 6
oh, the Polytechnic Hills,
How unchanged they seem to stand,
With their summits pointed skyward
To the vaulted heavens grand.
Many changes we can see
Which the heart with sadness fills.
But no changes can we notice
In the Polytechnic Hills.
Oh, the Polytechnic Hills,
Must we bid you e'er adieu?
If in lands beyond the billows,
We shall ever dream of you.
In the evening time of life,
If the heavenly Father wills.
We shall still behold the vision
Of the Polytechnic Hills.
1 (>7
PUNTA ALCATRAZ
Noon after noon the sea bird
seeks this rock,
He who has freedom of all
sky, all shore;
Noon after noon he comes
from far heights
flying
To perch hereon, as all the
noons before.
This crusted boulder, this cas-
ual piece of granite.
Is the sea bird's star in a uni-
verse of cloud,
His plot of earth, his verity,
his comfort,
The one fixed point in fluctuant tides allowed.
Not in wide space his joy, nor far horizons,
This wildest, freest thing who in unknown,
Unbounded oceans of air, oceans of water,
Has found the harsh security of stone.
Launched through aether from sunrise until moon-
rise,
Midway of dawn and dusk his wings decline
(Renewal of endurance, renewal of rapture)
To this rock which is his certainty, and mine.
— Muna Lee
Courtesy of R. D. Paldcios
"Mnralla," by Rafael D.
Palacios
1 69
PhotoV'oph fj'J Thompson
"The Spectator"
"One child's wide bright eyes, Mark where beneath
A sunny sky, a sunny mango falls and lies."
THE SPECTATOR
Under coral vine and canary tree
The village lies a-swoon —
The sun clings like a golden bee
To the wide blue petals of noon.
No sound seeps through from shuttered walls,
In the brooding square, no sound;
Only a soft, ripe mango falls
To rot upon the ground.
Only through one shutter's chink
One child's wide bright eyes
Mark where beneath a sunny sky
A sunny mango falls and lies.
— Muna Lee
1 7 1
DON HENRY
He was born in a land of ponds and willows,
Of gentle slopes and grazing cattle,
And here his gaze cleaves flaming mallows
To plunge in seas like molten metal.
His boyhood knew the kindly shallows
Reflecting back the moon's one petal,
But cobalt water pours in billows
Over these sands where seapods rattle.
Yet the white'-bloomed beachvines pushing over
Shifting dunes where the slim grebe dodges.
The three-leaved beachvines are as a lever
Which pries apart the tight world's edges,
And with a sudden force dislodges
Fiery skies from the fiery sedges —
And his soul stares through to fields of clover
He will see no more, and sees forever.
— Muna Lee
1 7 1
.^SSSSSimimi
I'hotogrnph by SlucU,
Street scene in San Juan
PUERTO RICO
Land of sunshine with mark of Spain;
Land of beauty, yet tinged with pain;
Land of children, free and unclad,
Land of hunger, so stark and sad.
Isle of mystery, sweet and still;
Isle of movement with power to will;
Isle of memories, ages old;
Isle of a nation, young, yet old.
Pawn of the world in years long past;
Pawn of interests not steadfast;
Pawn of the church with ancient hold;
Pawn of the lust and power of gold.
Winds of the trades through whisp'ring palms;
Winds of coolness and healing balms;
Winds of the tropics, wild and free;
Winds from Heaven with cheer for thee.
America, care for your own;
America, give not a stone;
America, the fountainhead;
Give us this day our daily bread.
— William S. Kenney
1 75
APPENDIX
WHO'S WHO AMONG CONTRIBUTING POETS
AND ARTISTS
Authors
Jose A. Balseiro (1900 — )
This eminent poet, educator, and man of letters was born in
Barceloneta, P. R., August 23, 1900. He received his high-
school education in Baltimore, Md., studied law at the Uni-
versity of Puerto Rico, and literature in Spain, France, and
England. The following books from his pen indicate his ver-
satihty: La Ruta Etcrna (novel), Madrid, 1923; La Copa de
Anacreonte (poems), Madrid, 1924; El Vigia, volume 1
(essays), Madrid, 192 5 — crowned by the Spanish Academy;
Musica Cordial (poems), Madrid, 1926; El Vigt'a, volume 2,
Madrid, 1928; Novelist as Espaiioles Modernos (criticism),
New York, Macmillan, 193 3; El Quixote de la Espatla Con-
temporanea: Miguel de Unamuno (essay), Madrid, 193 5.
Among the unusual honors accorded him have been such posts
as: corresponding member of the Spanish Academy; corre-
sponding member of the Hispanic-American Academy of Arts
and Sciences; official delegate of the U. S. Government to the
first International Congress on the Teaching of Ibero-American
Literature, Mexico City, August, 1938; secretary of the
Literary Section of the Ateneo, Madrid; professor of Romance
languages. University of Illinois, 1930-33 and 1936-38; visit-
ing professor of Spanish literature, University of Puerto Rico,
193 3-36; visiting professor of Spanish literature, Northwestern
University, summer, 1937; and chairman of Modern Spanish
Division, Modern Language Association of America, 193 8.
He delivered the opening address at the first congress of the
Inter- American Bibliographical and Library Association, Wash-
ington, D. C, November 28, 1939. He has also lectured in
Spain; at New York University; and at the Universities of
Iowa, Wisconsin, and Mexico.
Jose Gautier Benitez (1850-80)
The poetry of this distinguished Puerto Rican poet is differ-
ent from all the sex and pohtical poetry of his day in that he
1 79
sang of the beauty of his native land with intense fervor. He
was born in Caguas, trained at the military academy at San
Juan, and graduated as an infantry lieutenant. His career took
him to Spain, where he lived for the most part in Toledo. The
most beautiful of his Puerto Rican poems were distilled from
intense homesickness for his tropical home. This love and
yearning reached such depth that he gave up his military
career and returned to Puerto Rico, giving his full time to
the writing of poetry. This led him to cry out, "I may lack
everything in earthly goods, but I have too much heart." His
poetry, however, will live long after the world has forgotten
that battles were ever fought, for he chose the things of the
spirit, therefore he lives, and is perhaps the best loved of all
the Puerto Rican poets.
Lillian Cannon Collier (1895 — )
This distinguished American poetess was born in Orange,
Texas, January 11, 1895. For more than twenty years Mrs.
Collier has lived in South America and in Puerto Rico, where
she now resides. She writes poetry purely as a diversion, and
has made little or no attempt to have anything published. Her
"Nocturne" appeared in the West Indian Review in 1937. To
read her poetry, however, is to recognize, at once, her charming
lyric style.
Sarah Palmer Colmore (1881 — )
This distinguished poetess was born in Fernandina, Florida.
She was graduated from Kent Place School, Summit, New
Jersey, in 1899. Following her marriage, she came to Puerto
Rico in 1914, after nine years as a resident of Havana, Cuba.
Her poems have been widely published in the religious press of
the Episcopal Church, and in the local papers of San Juan,
P. R., where she now resides. Mrs. Colmore is the wife of
Charles B. Colmore, the Episcopal bishop of Puerto Rico and
the Virgin Islands.
Jose A. Franquiz (1906 — )
This eminent scholar-poet was born in Yauco, P. R., and
educated in the public schools of his native land. He studied
in both Colgate and Boston Universities on the termination of
1 8
his undergraduate work. At Boston University he was granted
the degrees of Bachelor of Sacred Theology and Doctor of
Philosophy. His special field of interest is Philosophy. He is a
member of two honorary societies: Phi Epsilon Kappa and
Phi Epsilon Theta, and maintains active membership in the
College Poetry Guild of America, the American Philosophical
Association, the Berliner Kantgeselleschaft, and the Ateneo of
Puerto Rico. He is at present Professor of Philosophy in the
University of Puerto Rico, and active in the adult education
movement undertaken by the Ateneo. He is the author of two
books of poetry: Lirios y Jazmines and Interminable Blue, and
is an indefatigable contributor to cultural magazines in both
English and Spanish.
Nathan H. Huffman (1872 — )
This eminent poet and man of letters was born in Kansas.
He received his A.B. degree from Lane University at Lecomp-
ton, Kansas; his B.D. degree from Bonebrake Seminary at Day-
ton, Ohio; his A.B. and A.M. from the University of Kansas;
and his D.D. degree from Kansas City University. He was the
founder of the mission of the United Brethren in Christ in
Puerto Rico, Superintendent of Christian Work under the
San Domingo Board, and at present is dean of the Polytechnic
Institute at San German. He is a frequent contributor to the
church publications and a continual source of inspiration as a
teachei of the youth of today.
MuNA Lee DE Munoz-Marin (1895 — )
This distinguished poetess was born in Raymond, Mississippi.
She attended the University of Oklahoma in 1909-10, and re-
ceived her B.S. degree from the University of Mississippi in
1913. In 1919 Miss Lee married Luis Munoz-Marin of San
Juan, P.R., where she now resides. Mrs. Munoz-Marin is direc-
tor of the Bureau of International Relations of the University
of Puerto Rico. In 1931-32, on leave of absence from the
University, Mrs. Munoz-Marin acted as director of activities
of the National Woman's Party of the United States. In 1928
she was a speaker before the Sixth Pan-American Conference
in Havana, Cuba, and director of pubUc relations and informa-
tion for the Inter-American Committee of Women of the
1 8 1
Pan- American Union. She is a member of the permanent coun-
cil of the Woman Geographers, and of the Poetry Society of
America; and in 1915 was awarded Lyric prize by Poetry, the
noted Chicago verse magazine. She is also a member of the
governing board of the Ibero-American Institute of the Uni-
versity of Puerto Rico, and a member of the supporting coun-
cil of the World Woman's Party. She is a member of the
Poet's Club; the author of Sea Change; and the translator of
the Spanish-American Anthology number of Poetry, and of
Four Years Beneath the Crescent by General Rafael de
Nogales. Miss Lee is a frequent contributor to such American
magazines as Nation, North American Review, Bookman, and
the Ladies Home Journal, and also in Spanish to El Diario de la
Marina, El Sol, La Nacion, and others. Her present address is
Brau91,San Juan, P. R.
Rafael Rivera Otero (1903 — )
This Puerto Rican educator, poet, and man of letters was
born in Cayey on September 9, 1903. He obtained his A.B.
degree from the University of Puerto Rico in 1925, his M.A.
from Columbia University in 1930, and his Ph.D. degree from
Columbia in 1938. He has been a teacher in the high schools of
Puerto Rico, director of the Industrial School of the University
of Puerto Rico, and is now assistant to the chancellor of his
alma mater. He is co-author of a volume of verse for children,
Una Nube en el Yiento (A Wind-blown Cloud), author of
Sintesis (poems) , and a writer of various essays on educational
subjects.
Concha Melendez has recently been appointed head of the
Spanish Department in the University of Puerto Rico. All her
undergraduate work was done in the schools of Puerto Rico
and in the University. Her graduate work was done at Colum-
bia University, the National University of Mexico awarding
her the degree of Doctor en Filosofia y Letras for her brilliant
dissertation in the field of Mexican literature. Columbia Uni-
versity published her study of Amado Nervo, the Mexican poet,
in the "Instituto de las Espanas" series; Signos de Iberamerica is
a profound study of Spanish-American literature. Besides being
a recognized literary critic. Miss Melendez is also one of Puerto
1 8 2
Rico's finest present-day lyric poets. In 1939 she was awarded
the Puerto Rican medal for distinguished work in Spanish
literature.
Grace Spencer Phillips (1886 — )
This widely known poetess was born in Clayton, New
Jersey. She holds her A.B. and A.M. degrees from the Uni-
versity of Illinois, and held a fellowship in chemistry at Bryn
Mawr. Her Trilogy was published in 1937, and her Seven
Sonnets on Puerto Rico in 1938. She has Hved in Puerto Rico
for twenty-seven years.
Elizabeth Kneipple Roberts
This eminent American poet and prose writer was born in
Marion, Indiana, and holds her Ph.D. degree from the Uni-
versity of Chicago. For more than ten years she was special
supervisor of English of the Department of Education in
Puerto Rico, during which time she wrote several books for
children, and also collaborated with the late Bailey K. Ashford
in writing his autobiography. Soldier in Science (Morrow,
1934). In 1937 her novel, Candle in the Sun, came from the
press, and in 1938, after a year's residence in central Europe,
her novel Reap the Whirhvind appeared, prophesying the
present war. In 1940 her latest novel. Tamarack, a story
of the Northwoods country in the United States, was issued by
Bobbs-Merrill. The books by which she is best known in
Puerto Rico are Picturesque Puerto Rico, Stories of Puerto
Rico, and Candle in the Sun, the latter having a Puerto Rican
setting.
Cecil E. Stevens (1883 — )
This widely known poet and educator was born in Auckland,
New Zealand. For thirty years she was superintendent of
schools in Rio Piedras, P. R., and at present is in the Insular
Department of Education. Although her great contribution
has been in the field of education — no history of education in
Puerto Rico could be written without her — she is also one of
the island's outstanding lyric poets. Miss Stevens has made a
scientific study and collection of the paleographical specimens
1 8 3
of the island; and is the author of Before Columbus and
Meditation of a Royal Palm. She is also a frequent contributor
to both Spanish and American magazines.
Esther Turner Wellman (1893 — )
As a child of missionaries in Mexico, Esther Turner early
achieved complete mastery of Spanish as well as of English.
Graduating cum lande and Phi Beta Kappa from the University
of Southern California in 1919, she married the same month
and went with her husband to Drew Theological Seminary,
where she was the first woman ever to be invested by that
institution with the degree of Bachelor of Theology. During
those same years she completed all credit requirements at
Columbia University for her Ph.D. and passed the matricula-
tion examinations brilliantly. Years of research followed in
Mexico, successfully terminated by her dissertation: "Amado
Nervo, Mexico's Religious Poet." Her degree was awarded
in 1936. She is the author of two books of poetry: Democracy
and Other Verse and A Rosary of Madrigals. Both her prose
and poetry have been widely reprinted, particularly in Spanish-
speaking magazines. Her home is now in Puerto Rico, where
she is gathering materials for further publication.
Illustrators
Walt Dehner (1898—)
One print from the brush of this eminent American artist
appears in Puerto Rico in Pictures and Poetry. He was born
in Buffalo, New York, and his early years were spent among
that remarkable group of craftsmen, the Roycrofters, at East
Aurora. Michigan, Illinois, and Ohio State Universities gave
him his major schooling; and shorter stays at Harvard and
Columbia rounded out his scholastic education. Bellows,
Rosen, and Speicher at the Woodstock school of the Art Stu-
dents League did for his art technique what the universities
had done for his liberal education. Studies with Breckenridge
and Garber completed his student days. For the past twelve
years Mr. Dehner has been Director of Art at the University
of Puerto Rico, where his work has attracted considerable at-
1 8 4
tention. His holidays are spent in traveling, wandering from
one spot to another, always in search of a new inspiration.
The islands of the world seem to call to him. Mr. Dehner has
exhibited at most of the important museums and art galleries
in the United States, among them the Brooklyn Museum, the
Toledo Museum of Art, the Art Institute of Chicago, the Los
Angeles Museum, and the Whitney Museum. His latest works
may be seen at the Kraushaer Galleries in New York City.
Rafael Arroyo Gely (1913-3S)
This distinguished young Puerto Rican artist was born in
Patillas, P. R., and died at the age of twenty-two in Guayama.
Though he died tragically young, he left twenty-seven jewel-
like water colors of masterly composition. "How could he, in
so brief a life," asks Dr. Concha Melendez in Art in Review,
"make his own modern concept of space, the complementary
shadows of his tropical colors? Colors, nevertheless, far from
stridency, instinct with spiritual light, youthful. How did he
acquire, furthermore, his melodic line, his sagacious and diffi-
cult simplicity, his originality of interpretation?" His work
has been exhibited in the Athenaeum in San Juan and in the
University of Puerto Rico, and it will live always because of
its poetic as well as artistic appeal.
Carolyn McAfee Morgan
Born in Parkville, Missouri, she received her B.A. degree
from Park College in 1921, and then spent the years of 1922-24
in Near East Relief work in Syria. The years 1924-2 5 were
spent in teaching in India. After her marriage she went with
her husband, Barney N. Morgan, to Puerto Rico, where for
four years she taught in Polytechnic Institute at San German.
In 1929 Mrs. Morgan and her husband were sent to Trujillo
City in the Dominican Repubhc under the Board for Christian
Work in Santo Domingo, where Mr. Morgan is Superintendent.
In addition to her home responsibilities and teaching activities
in the English School in Trujillo City and in the University of
Santo Domingo, Mrs. Morgan makes artistic photography her
hobby, in which field she was won merited recognition.
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Rafael D. Palacios (1905—)
This distinguished artist of Spanish-Puerto Rican parentage
was born in Santo Domingo (now Trujillo City), capital of
the Dominican Republic. When he was five months old his
family moved to Puerto Rico, where he has since made his
permanent home. Palacios was educated in the Puerto Rican
schools and as an artist is largely self-taught, never having left
his native island until 1931, when he made a brief visit to the
United States. In 1928 he did his first sketches in fine art
while in San Juan. "Muralla," a print of which is included in
this anthology, was one of the products of those earlier years.
In later years Palacios has dedicated himself to the study of
the Negro of the West Indies in his pictorial aspects. In 1937
he was chosen, with two others, to represent Puerto Rico at
the second annual Exhibition of American Art in New York
City. In 1938 he also exhibited at the Delphic Studios in New
York, where he presented his first display of Afro-Antillean
art. That same year he also exhibited at the first Newspaper
Artists' Exhibition in New York City, and in several one-man
shows at the Athenaeum in San Juan and at the University of
Puerto Rico. Speaking of his work, Walt Dehner says that
Palacios "reveals two sharply contrasted methods of expression
in his gouaches and his brush and ink drawings. The latter are
poetic, simple, delicately imaginative renderings, for the most
part, of Puerto Rican and especially San Juan scenes; old
Spanish fortifications, narrow streets, moonlight on crumbHng
stone and sunlight on iron balconies. Yet stone and iron are
transmuted into subtle poems from the subconscious. The
gouaches, on the other hand, are brutally direct, tragic, and
melancholy. Here there is more of Africa than of Spain, though
the Antillean note is always dominant. His painting style is
broad and serene, bold in craftsmanship and murallike in
conception. The gouaches are in various styles of formalized
patterns, simply and powerfully built up; the drawings have a
lyric fluency and ease."
Mildred Eastey Stuckert
Born in Sedalia, Missouri, and reared in San Jose, California,
she was graduated from Leland Stanford University in 1913
1 8 6
with the A.B. degree. In 1917 she married George A. Stuckert
and lived in Panama City for two years. In 1924 she came to
Puerto Rico, where she has since resided. Her avocational in-
terest for the past several years has been artistic photography,
in which field she has won outstanding recognition. Her re-
markable photographic prints have been published in such
magazines as the National Historic, Vogue, and the Garden
Quarterly. Her unusually artistic photographic prints ex-
hibited in the Puerto Rican Art Exhibit in October, 1939, re-
ceived universal praise.
John William Thompson (1912 — )
This young man was born in IndianapoHs, Indiana. He
graduated from Shortridge High School in 1930 and attended
Butler University for three and a half years. He served as staff
photographer for the Indianapolis Times and also as dramatic
and sports editor. He married in 1936 and the following year
moved to Puerto Rico, where he now holds a responsible posi-
tion as administrative assistant for the Puerto Rico Progress
Association. His hobby is artistic photography, and he has a
collection of more than eight hundred prints, many of which
have received notable commendation. More than a hundred
of his photographic prints were recently exhibited at the
Blanche Kellogg Institute in Santurce in connection with the
John R. Mott meetings.
1 8 7
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
It is with a very deep appreciation that the author and
compiler of Puerto Rico in Pictures and Poetry acknowledges
her indebtedness for the generous contributions which both
poets and artists have made to the compilation of this an-
thology dedicated to the beauty of Puerto Rico.
The compiler has made every effort to trace the ownership
of all copyrighted poems and pictures contained in this
volume through authors, artists, libraries, and publishers, and
to the best of her knowledge has secured written permissions
on ail the materials included herein. Should there be any ques-
tion in regard to the use of any poem or picture without
adequate permission, the author hereby acknowledges such
unconscious error, and pledges herself, upon notification of
such oversight, to make the necessary corrections in subsequent
editions of this anthology.
A special word of appreciation is due to Mrs. Esther Turner
Wellman, of Rio Piedras, Puerto Rico, for her generous work
in scanning poetry by Spanish authors with a view to locating
poems of a descriptive character that should be included, and
for translating, when necessary, such poems into English.
Also for her service in contributing biographical material for
the "Who's Who Among Contributing Poets and Artists."
Thanks are also tendered for her gracious permission to include
in this anthology five poems from her pen, as follows:
"Democracy," "Nocturne," and "Night" from Democracy
and Other Poems; "A Spanish Home" from the 1926 Poetry
Day Book, and her as yet unpublished verse, "Boys March."
Special recognition is also due to Mrs. Muna Lee de Muiioz-
Marin, of the University of Puerto Rico, for her permission to
include several poems from her fertile pen: "San Christobel"
and "A Song of Dreams Come True" from Sea Change; "Rich
Port" from the American Mercury; "Caribbean Noon,"
"Caribbean Fantasy," and "Acacia" from the New Yorker;
"Hacienda" from the Commonweal; "Punta Alcatraz" from
Poetry; "Don Henry" from the New Republic; and "The
1 8 9
Spectator" from Neiv York Herald-Tribune "Books." Grati-
tude is also expressed for her generous co-operation in securing
permission to include prints from the Walt Dehner collection
of art, a print from the work of the gifted young Puerto
Rican artist, Rafael Arroyo Gely, and also one from the brush
of Rafael D. Palacios. She has also been helpful in suggesting
contributions by other American and Puerto Rican poets and
artists that should be included in such an anthology, and in
providing biographical material on "Walt Dehner, Rafael
Arroyo Gely, and Rafael D. Palacios.
Thanks are also due to the following authors who have
contributed one or more poems to this anthology:
Rafael Rivera Otero, of the University of Puerto Rico, for
permission to include "Borinquen" from Glimpses of Puerto
Rico.
Mrs. Elizabeth Kneipple Roberts and Silver Burdette Com-
pany for permission to include the following poems: "Flam-
boyant Trees," "Palm Groves," and "Night on the Old Sea
Wall" from Stories of Porto Rico; "The Temple," "Borinquen
Sunrise Across Candado Bay," and "Carmencita" from Pic-
tiircsque Porto Rico.
Concha Melendez, of the University of Puerto Rico, for
permission to include her poem "The Mountains Know" from
Some Spanish-American Poets.
Mrs. Sarah Palmer Colmore for permission to include the
following poems from her versatile pen: "Los Caballitos
Blancos," "Powder Puffs," "Flamboyan," "Crosses Against a
Tropic Sky," "A Tropic Requiem," "Orchids," "Arrows,"
"Puerto Rico at Sunset," "The Southern Cross," and "Coqni."
Jose A. Franquiz, of the University of Puerto Rico, for
permission to include two poems, "Psalm" and "Moonlight
Reflections," from Interminable Blue.
Mrs. Grace Spencer Phillips for permission to include her
poem "The Flamboyant" from Seven Sonnets on Puerto Rico.
Miss Cecil E. Stevens for permission to include the follow-
ing poems from her pen: "Shadows," "El Yunque," "The
Wind," "Meditation of a Royal Palm," "A Father," "The Sea,"
and "The Bells of Guaynabo" from Meditation of a Royal
1 9
Palm; and "The Traveler's Palm," "Coqui," and "The Flam-
boyant," which were written especially for this anthology.
Nathan H. Huffman, of Polytechnic Institute, San German,
for permission to include three poems, "The Steps," "Bamboo,"
and "Into the Slums" in this anthology.
Jose A. Balseiro, poet-critic, of the University of Puerto
Rico, for permission to include two poems from his pen,
"Puerto Rico" and "Sensations of Fatherland."
Mrs. Pierce Collier, of San Juan, for permission to include in
this anthology four poems, as follows: "The Haunted Sentry
Box," "Catano," "Cane Fields," and "Nocturne."
Dr. Jarvis S. Morris, President of Polytechnic Institute, San
German, for permission to include "The Polytechnic Hills," a
school song that was written many years ago by one of the
first students and dedicated to the magnificent view of moun-
tains and valleys that surrounds Polytechnic Institute, one of
the oldest evangelical educational institutions in Puerto Rico.
A special word of thanks is also due to the following artists
and photographers who have contributed to the enrichment
of this anthology:
Mr. Walt Dehner, Director of Art at the University of
Puerto Rico, for permission to include one of his art portrayals
of Borinquen scenes.
The University of Puerto Rico for permission to include one
print from the work of the gifted young Puerto Rican artist,
now deceased, Rafael Arroyo Gely.
Mr. Rafael D. Palacios for permission to include a print
of his sketch "Muralla" to illustrate the poem by Muna Lee,
"Punta Alcatraz."
Mrs. Mildred Eastey Stuckert, photographic artist, for
permission to include prints of her photographic enlargements
of unusual Puerto Rican scenes.
Mr. John W. Thompson, photographic artist for the Puerto
Rican Progress Association, for permission to include thirteen
of his photographic views.
Mrs. Carolyn McAfee Morgan, for permission to include
the print, "Moonlight Reflections" to illustrate a poem of that
title by Jose A. Franquiz.
1 9 1
INDEX OF POETRY BY AUTHORS AND
TITLES
Anonymous ^^S^
Entering San Juan Harbor 2 5
From Guayama to Cayay 71
Night Winds' Oratorios 41
The Polytechnic Hills 166
Balseiro, Jose A.
Puerto Rico 90
Sensations of Fatherland 12 J
BeNitez, Jose Gautier
Puerto Rico 57
Collier, Lillian Cannon
Cane Fields 15 5
Catano 132
Nocturne 3 2
The Haunted Sentry Box 29
CoLMORE, Sarah Palmer
Arrows 156
A Tropic Requiem 109
Coqtd! 161
Crosses against a Tropic Sky 75
Flamboyan 6 8
Los Caballitos Blancos 3 5
Orchids 1 1 3
Powder Puflfs 45
Puerto Rico at Sunset 143
The Southern Cross — 76
Franquiz, Jose A.
Moonlight Reflections 59
Psalm 8 9
Huffman, Nathan H.
Bamboo 13 5
Into the Slums 8 1
The Steps 165
Kenney, William S.
Puerto Rico 175
Lee, Muna
Acacia 153
A Song of Dreams Come True 111
1 9 3
Page
Caribbean Fantasy ..- 123
Caribbean Noon 139
Don Henry 172
Hacienda _ 141
Punta Alcatraz 169
Rich Port 1 1
San Christobel 29
The Spectator 171
Maus, Cynthia Pearl
A Tropical Moon on Good Friday 5 1
The Traveler's Palm 120
Twilight Silhouettes 131
Melendez, Concha
The Mountains Know 61
Otero, Rafael Rivera
Borinquen 2 6
Phillips, Grace Spencer
The Flamboyant 65
Roberts, Elizabeth Kneipple
Borinquen Sunrise across Candado Bay 3 1
Carmencita 149
Flamboyant Trees 67
Night on the Old Sea Wall 93
Palm Groves 5 5
The Temple 115
Stevens, Cecil E.
A Father 129
Coqui ._ . — — 162
El Yunque — 57
Meditation of a Royal Palm 95
Shadows 47
The Bells of Guaynabo . _ — 159
The Flamboyant 66
The Sea 145
The Traveler's Palm 119
The Wind - 8 5
Wellman, Esther Turner
A Spanish Home - 43
Boys March 99
Democracy 79
Night ..- 1 06
Nocturne 1 5
1 94
INDEX OF ARTISTS CONTRIBUTING
ILLUSTRATIONS
Anonymous Page
Chapel at Porta Coeli with acacia trees in the back-
ground — - 152
Dehner, Walt
"Puerto Rico: Harbor Minnows" 138
Gely, Rafael Arroyo
"Vista de Aguadilla" 122
Morgan, Carolyn McAfee
Moonlight reflections 58
Palacios, Rafael D.
"Muralla" 169
Polytechnic Institute
Homes of the poor in San German 80
Symbolic memorial steps, Polytechnic Institute, San
German 1 64
The stately bamboo tree, Costello Hall, San German.. 134
Stuckert, Mildred Eastey
Ancient citadel of El Morro, The 24
Cloudy sky at dawn, A 44
Coconut palms beside the sea 40
Crosses against a tropic sky, San Juan Cathedral 75
Dawn breaks over the mountains and in Carmen-
cita's home 148
El Yunque Mountain 56
Flamboyant, or royal poinciana, tree in summer, The.. 64
Garden pools of Casa Blanca, where the coqtii hides.... 160
God's templed trees 114
Haunted sentry box, The 28
Humble hut of the Jibero, The 46
Nocturne in Puerto Rico 104
Orchids of Puerto Rico, The 112
Palm groves in the evening 54
Puerto Rican funeral among the humbler class, A 128
Puerto Rico's winding highways 70
Royal palm in meditation. The 94
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Page
Sea waves at night — Los Caballitos Blancos 34
Siesta time in Puerto Rico -. 124
Street scene in San Juan 174
Sugar cane in bloom in Puerto Rico 154
Sunset at San Juan 142
Traveler's palm, The 118
Tropic requiem, A 108
Tropical sea at sunrise, A 144
Winds and clouds in Puerto Rico 84
World-famed Casa Blanca at San Juan, The 42
Thompson, John William
Candado skyline at sunrise - 30
Coast defense maneuvers 98
Dos Bocas Mountains 60
Fisherman home- wending from the sea, A 130
La Plata Valley 36
Majesty of Puerto Rico's mountains, The 8 8
Moonlit cross in the hills 50
Moorish gate on the old sea wall, A — San Juan 92
Resting the oxen in Don Efren's field 140
San Juan's magnificent shore line 100
Symbol of Democracy — Puerto Rico's $7,500,000
Capitol - — 78
"Spectator, The" 170
Temple bells in the village plaza 158
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