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Referenced in this episode:
Genius-Hunter Extra-Credit:
Have a genius recipe you'd like to share? Tell us all about it at [email protected].
Ode to Mexico by Andrea Aliseda
(English Version)
I close my eyes and see
myself
perched at the steps
of an old cathedral
the air,
abundant and thick;
a paradise for the senses,
as I cradle calla lilies
in the fold of my arms
I have a little coffee
to linger in the poetry of the bugambilias outside the home of the late
Gael García Márquez,
who rests in peace
I devour my heart
gushing of salsa amor
as if it were a torta
and lick my fingers
savoring every last bite
the united states
doesn’t taste quite like this
(Spanish Version )
cierro los ojos,
y me veo sentada
en la entrada
de un catedral
el aire,
pleno y lleno:
un paraíso para el olfato
arrullando
flores de alcatraz
entre mis brazos
con un cafecito
para echarle ojo
a la poesía de la bugambilia, frente la casa del Don Gael García Márquez,
que en paz descanse.
mastico mi corazón,
escurriendo de salsa amor
como si fuera torta
y me chupo los dedos de lo delicioso que está,
en los estados unidos, no saben cocinar así.
By Food524.4
272272 ratings
Referenced in this episode:
Genius-Hunter Extra-Credit:
Have a genius recipe you'd like to share? Tell us all about it at [email protected].
Ode to Mexico by Andrea Aliseda
(English Version)
I close my eyes and see
myself
perched at the steps
of an old cathedral
the air,
abundant and thick;
a paradise for the senses,
as I cradle calla lilies
in the fold of my arms
I have a little coffee
to linger in the poetry of the bugambilias outside the home of the late
Gael García Márquez,
who rests in peace
I devour my heart
gushing of salsa amor
as if it were a torta
and lick my fingers
savoring every last bite
the united states
doesn’t taste quite like this
(Spanish Version )
cierro los ojos,
y me veo sentada
en la entrada
de un catedral
el aire,
pleno y lleno:
un paraíso para el olfato
arrullando
flores de alcatraz
entre mis brazos
con un cafecito
para echarle ojo
a la poesía de la bugambilia, frente la casa del Don Gael García Márquez,
que en paz descanse.
mastico mi corazón,
escurriendo de salsa amor
como si fuera torta
y me chupo los dedos de lo delicioso que está,
en los estados unidos, no saben cocinar así.

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