Do not knock upon my door!
Do not call me by my name!
Do you not understand,
That I will not leave?
This is my home,
My soul and all that I am.
Go and find your own,
For it is you that do not belong.
I am Granada;
The grain of blood
That sows its honour,
Along the streets,
And within the courtyards,
Perfumed with blossom of orange;
With their red clay tiles,
Hard and impenetrable,
Like their people,
With skin of jet.
I am the swollen fruit,
As sweet as the sacred waters
That flow through my veins,
And give life to my bones,
And rhythm to my heart.
I am La Duénda,
The Sage,
The strange one with whom no-one speaks,
But whom everyone fears.
And I will tell you
One last time:
Away spectre!
Be gone from here!
If you wish to participate in this year’s NaPoWriMo please click here.
Diary of a Person Being Human 
Love the poem, love that it’s bilingual, and I get shivers when you speak Español.
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Did you like the way I rolled my r’s ?
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It rrrrrrreved my rrrrrrruning engines.
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🙂
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